


Broken Chains

by TCRegan



Series: Ascension of the Wolf [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Master/Slave, Politics, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 43,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris was never trained to be a spy, but he would do anything for his master, even if that meant leaving his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate history with a compressed timeline. Story starts with Fenris still Danarius's loyal slave while the events of DA2 are taking place without him. 
> 
> Later parts will contain Anders/Male Hawke. Other pairings may feature but will not be prominent in the telling of the tale.
> 
> Five parts are planned out, hope you'll stick with me while I get through this. :)
> 
> Special super thanks to Vee for kicking my ass with beta reading and titling the story. I would not write nearly as much or as well without you, my love <3

Nervous anticipation curled in Fenris's gut as the carriage rolled toward the large estate. Not that it was the first time he'd ever been to a magister's gala - far from it. However, several opposing members of Danarius's house would be in attendance. Very powerful magisters in their own right, too. Danarius briefed him before embarking on the journey to the Alexius estate.

_"Magister Alexius is hosting, along with his son. If the night goes accordingly, you'll be staying with them for a time."_

Fenris swallowed hard. Apparently several slaves in Alexius's care fell ill to some sort of sweeping summer illness, and Danarius thought it an opportune time to loan his rival a few of his own slaves to help ease the family's burdens. Of course it was a ruse. Both an overt public "truce" from Danarius and an opportunity to place several of his own spies into Alexius's house. If Danarius obtained even a shred of evidence against Alexius, he could foist him from the Magisterium. And it fell to Fenris to collect this information.

He hated politics. Hated the backstabbing and the doublespeak, the lies and the conniving. He was built for protection, as a bodyguard or even an assassin, not a spy. But he was his master's favored slave, and he worked hard for that position. He wasn't about to step aside now to allow some kitchen slave to seize that honor out from under him. He wouldn't travel in a second rate carriage, be relegated to peeling potatoes instead of serving directly under Danarius in his fullest capacity, his training wasted.

Danarius's hand came to rest in his hair and Fenris leaned into the touch unconsciously as weathered fingers worked their way through the soft strands. He'd been washed and bathed by two of the house slaves, then dressed in black silks, Danarius's family crest embroidered on the back. Templar soldiers were welcome to watch the house, and courtesy dictated that weapons – including staves – were frowned upon for the guests that evening. Danarius thought it ridiculous and Fenris was inclined to agree. Powerful magisters with their families didn't need staves to defend or attack, magic as close as the tips of their fingers. Still, he kept a small dagger strapped to his leg just in case.

Not that _he_ needed a weapon either. His physical prowess alone ensured he could outmuscle just about everyone at the party, including Templars, and his markings gave him the abilities beyond that of a mage. Regardless, he'd never been in a situation yet where he needed to utilize them to their fullest extent. No one was brave or stupid enough to send assassins after Danarius, not yet at least. Still, he felt important, being entrusted with his master's safety and well-being. Which was why he felt sick now, knowing that by the end of the night he would be leaving his master's side for an unknown period of time.

"You're thinking awfully a lot, pet."

Fenris frowned, flexing his fingers atop his thighs. "I… have reservations about leaving you alone."

The hand in his hair slid to the back of his neck and he shivered as fingernails gently scraped along his skin. This intimacy he was only usually afforded in private, away from prying eyes. Not that it was spoken about in polite company, but Fenris knew what others would say if they could confirm Danarius's predilections for sleeping with his favorite slave. It set Fenris apart from the house slaves, emerging early in the morning from his master's bedroom, or attending to him late into the night. He wondered if he would be forced to attend to Magister Alexius or another member of the house, and bristled at the thought.

"Your concern is touching, pet, but do not worry about me. I plan to stay in Minrathous for some time. There would be such a scandal should one of my enemies come to call while I'm in the city. None of them are quite _that_ stupid. And once you're finished with Alexius, we can return to Seheron for the winter."

Fenris let out a quite murmur of pleasure, chin dropping to his chest as Danarius's fingers massaged the base of his neck. The tension ebbed. "Yes, Master."

"Or is there another concern?"

Fenris sighed quietly. "Am I to follow every order Magister Alexius gives?"

"I think it would be rather rude not to. It will only be for a few weeks, two or three months at most. I'm sure he'll move quickly to purchase new slaves once he realizes his house will be filled with my own. Make no mistake, he's not stupid. He'll know the real reason you're there. However, I doubt he'll ask you to do anything you might find unsavory." Danarius removed his hand, reaching to take Fenris gently by the chin. "My little wolf will find his claws removed, sadly. I believe you'll be relegated to the washing and cooking. Such a waste of your talents."

"I'd prefer it in his house," Fenris said at once.

Danarius chuckled. "Of course."

The carriage slowed to a careful stop and Fenris stepped down, pleased when the footman backed away from Danarius's door. He knew his appearance was intimidating, knew that initial impressions were important. Despite his shorter stature and slight frame, his lyrium lines often caused shock and confusion, especially when activated. And what people didn't understand often frightened them.

_Perfect,_ he thought, grinning ferally as he opened Danarius's door for him.

His master stepped out, surveying the small crowd gathering outside the Alexius estate. Fenris recognized Magister Scaevola with his reedy-looking frame and thin, black goatee, and Senator Brexio, his portly build making him look like an overstuffed armchair. Indeed, it was odd to see the man standing. Fenris hadn't even been sure he _could_ walk. The sneer on Danarius's lip disappeared as quickly as it came, but Fenris hadn't missed it. Brexio was just barely important enough to be at a fete like this, and Scaevola likely wrangled an invitation through someone more powerful than himself. Bottom-feeders, Fenris heard them called. But valuable enough to be used by his master.

Head held high, Fenris followed Danarius, standing just behind him a little to his left as his master approached the others, greeting them and making small talk. Fenris watched as still more guests ascended the marble steps. Two enormous dragon statues flanked the staircase that led up to a black iron gate, thrown open now, with a lush courtyard beyond. He'd never been to the Alexius estate before, but he compared it to Danarius's own holdings in Seheron, and found it wanting. Music played from within, muted now by the sounds on the street and the chatter of excited party-goers.

A slave dressed in Alexius's house colors – dark gold and blood red – wound his way around the crowd, balancing a heavy tray full of champagne glasses. Danarius took one and led their ascent up the stairs, nodding to those who greeted him. Large double doors painted with the Alexius household crest opened into a foyer, crystal chandelier hanging above the gilded hall. Two winding staircases flanked a grand balcony. The room beyond held the source of the music and the sounds of even more conversation. Not that Danarius couldn't have organized such a gathering in his own estate, he simply had no cause to, and Fenris grew more agitated, being surrounded by those who'd try to oust his master from the Magisterium. They were in the nest of vipers now, and he would have to protect Danarius the best he could.

"Easy, pet," Danarius said in a subtle undertone as they walked the steps to the main ballroom. "You will have your time to strike. Unfurl your fists and hide your fangs."

Fenris relaxed, taking his master's champagne glass, and followed him inside as Danarius was announced to the hall. With any luck, the night would pass quickly, without incident.


	2. Chapter 2

Slaves watched one another, even as their masters played their political games. Fenris was all too aware of the eyes on him; it happened with every gathering. He knew the whispers, what they were saying. All other magisters in Tevinter failed where Danarius succeeded, sewing lyrium into the skin of a slave. With so much magic in the air, it was impossible to keep them subdued and they lit subtly, giving off a silver glow. In another situation it would be embarrassing, not being able to keep them under control. Fenris worked hard with both mage and mundane allies of Danarius to hone his body and abilities. Tonight, just for tonight though, he allowed himself a slight reprieve. Danarius knew there was little to be done about it that wouldn't cause him intense discomfort or pain, and a mild 'demonstration' kept the jealousy and interest of the other attendees piqued.

Jealousy, Danarius acknowledged, was a useful tool if used properly.

"Magister Danarius," greeted a young man, wearing the Alexius house colors. His close-cropped black hair and dark eyes marked him as Alexius's son.

Danarius shook his hand, smiling in a seemingly genuine way. "Felix. It was so good of your father to invite me tonight. I was surprised to hear it hadn't been canceled, considering the unfortunate events befalling your house. We were so sorry to hear of it."

Felix shrugged, a casual gesture which had Fenris guessing. Was it nonchalance or carefully calculated response? "We're hoping the illness passes soon. The healers are looking after them now." He caught Fenris's eye. "But I see your own house is doing well as ever. This is… Fenris? I've heard a lot about him but I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

Fenris hated him at once. No one ever considered meeting a slave a 'pleasure.' He knew he was afforded more courtesy than household slaves; after all he was built to be seen, though not heard, while the others were meant to be neither. He detested the young man's eagerness, the way his eyes flicked over his markings, as so many others had before him. He never felt more vulnerable than when put on display like a trophy. But it was a small price to pay, and later Danarius would reward him for his good behavior, proud of Fenris for not sulking like a child, and standing tall and proud like the warrior he was.

Only he wouldn't get the opportunity tonight, would he? They would say their goodbyes and part, and it would be weeks or even months before he saw Danarius again. Luckily his training kept the apprehension from his expression, and his master's warm hand touched the small of his back briefly before dropping away.

"Indeed. Your father attended my summer gathering last year, but you weren't in attendance. Such a shame. We had an impressive display, didn't we, Fenris?"

"Yes, Master."

He'd been pitted against a rage demon, summoned to show Danarius's power and that of his prized slave. He still had a burn on his thigh from the fight, but no one noticed the slight miscalculation. They were too impressed by how he'd dispatched the foe, and how quickly.

"I think we'll be putting on another at next year's Satinalia celebration, but time will tell. Where is your father this evening? I wish to offer my condolences and congratulations on his latest work. Even if it won't ever pass beyond theoretical."

Felix either didn't understand the insult, or chose to ignore it. "Oh, you know Father. He's mingling somewhere further in, boring someone important, I'm sure." There was more than a hint of affection in his tone and smile as he waved a hand in Alexius's general direction.

Danarius nodded his thanks and excused himself. Fenris saw the tension in his master's shoulders, the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He spared a backward glance at Felix, startled to see the man looking directly at him. Heat rising in his cheeks, he turned away quickly, hoping to negate any damage that might have occurred from one quick deviation of perceived good behavior. Danarius hadn't noticed at least, and that was a relief.

Alexius was in the center of a half-circle, canapé in one hand, glass of champagne in the other. A very pretty woman stood at his side, dark brown hair twisted up into a high knot, ringlets framing her face. She wore dark kohl around her eyes, and her face lit up when she laughed at something her husband said. Her stomach swelled under her ornate golden robes – pregnant, then. Fenris spared a thought for Danarius, wondering if he'd ever taken a wife. If he had, it was a long time ago, before Fenris came to his service. His master was largely a solitary person, his contacts purely business. Though he appeared to have affection for his apprentice, Hadriana, but the less Fenris thought about her, the better.

"Danarius! I'm surprised you took me up on my invitation," Alexius greeted him. He popped the last bite of the canapé in his mouth and quickly brushed away the crumbs before shaking Danarius's hand.

Stoic, barely breaking a tight-lipped smile, Danarius shook his hand and released just as quickly. "I would be a fool to miss a gathering such as this."

"I don't believe you've met my wife, Florentina."

Danarius bent low to brush his lips over her knuckles, and Fenris withheld a jealous bristle. He noted the two slaves behind the group, draped in red and gold silks. They looked tired, careworn. And no wonder, a party as large as this with only half the slaves available. There would be no way that Alexius would turn his master's offer down. Not without seeming cruel.

"I was just saying to your son that I'm impressed you managed to pull off this grandiose affair considering all that's happened."

Alexius gave the same nonchalant shrug his son had, his wife taking his arm, briefly pressing her cheek to his shoulder in a casual gesture of affection. "Life goes on. Canceling would have taken more effort than moving forward, and we're dining banquet-style which takes a lot of pressure off them. But I'm sure you didn't come to talk about that-"

"On the contrary," Danarius corrected smoothly. His hand returned to the small of Fenris's back, guiding him forward. "I've been planning on staying in Minrathous for a time, so I'll have no immediate need of most of my house slaves. And Fenris here is capable of seeing things are done in an orderly manner."

The smile on Alexius's lips faltered. Fenris held the smirk that threatened to emerge. If Danarius caught him alone or just in the presence of his wife, Alexius could refuse the offer easily. With the half dozen others in attendance though, he was stuck. And Alexius knew it.

"That's very generous of you. But how will you fare-"

Danarius waved a hand. "As I've said, I'll be at my estate in Minrathous for some time. The conflicts in Seheron are a bit too close to my lands for comfort at the moment. As my estate in the city is immeasurably more modest, I won't need nearly half of them. Though I trust you'll keep them in good spirits. Fenris tends to pine if I send him away for too long. Isn't that right, pet?"

"Yes, Master," Fenris answered automatically, and felt the heat rising in his cheeks as eyes finally turned to him. Had he not been trained to hold his reactions so closely to his chest, he might have stepped away from them, or turned inward toward Danarius. He was no longer a child though, trained for years on his responses as well as his reflexes.

"Of course we will," Florentina cut in with a painted smile that was more what Fenris was used to. "We won't forget this act of kindness, will we, love?"

"Of course not," Alexius said at once, his own smile tight-lipped. He half-turned toward one of his slaves, waving her over. The elf said nothing but stepped closer. "Alina, when Magister Danarius is ready to depart, see to it that Fenris is looked after."

"Excellent," Danarius said. "I'll send the rest along tomorrow morning. Fenris won't need more than a few hours to acclimate to your unusual way of doing things."

Alexius opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the announcement of another name ringing across the hall.

"Magister Livius Erimond of Vyrantium."

"Maker's breath, did you have to invite him?" Fenris heard Florentina breathe as the others turned to watch the magister's arrival.

Danarius straightened, tapping Fenris on the arm before nodding once more to Alexius, and slid easily into the crowd. "Tonight it is, then. I'm counting on you, pet."

Fenris nodded, swallowing thickly. He would not disappoint his master.


	3. Chapter 3

The party wound down late into the night. Fenris felt the ache of exhaustion in his bones. It was different than how he felt after long days of training. His mind raced, trying to prepare himself for the next few weeks. He'd be gathering secrets to ferry back to his master. While he'd been taught how to examine an opponent's movements either to prepare for an attack or to find a weak spot, he was less inclined when it came to verbal sparring. Luckily, he wasn't needed to assist in the cleaning up that night and could rest his body and mind in preparation; Alexius insisted he be taken straight to his quarters where he could get acclimated to the house as quickly as possible.

Danarius left him with a parting promise that he would be rewarded for his information, and the kiss his master placed on his forehead left his skin tingling slightly. He'd only ever been away from Danarius for a few days at a time, attending one of his master's associates. They treated him well, knowing what would happen if they didn't. Would Alexius? Danarius told him to treat Fenris as one of his own, but Alexius was a largely unknown entity, and Fenris wasn't sure what that meant.

In Danarius's house, he had his own lodgings, just a small room with a bed and some personal effects that Danarius gave him over the years. Here, however, he was given the bottom bunk in a room with several other bunk beds. A large fireplace kept the room warm, and he was assigned a chest of his own in which to keep his clothing and things. Danarius would send those along in the morning with other members of his house. The slave who brought Fenris downstairs – he'd forgotten her name already – informed him that breakfast would be late the next day as the family often slept in after a soiree, and to be expected to be in attendance, "Should the master need anything."

The bowels of the estate stretched the entirety of the house. While large, the layout was not confusing. Fenris easily found the back staircase, the hidden passages allowing slaves and servants to move in and out of nearly any room in order to clean with minimal exposure to the main halls. He noted the room for bathing, one large sunken pool, a waterfall against the stone. No doubt a dwarven enchantment; he'd seen such things in the Minrathous public baths. Magic, he admitted, had its uses. Perhaps Danarius would upgrade from the old pumps in his own estate.

He forwent the upper floors for now, not wanting to bring the obvious reason he was there to light. Alexius would have to be completely foolish if he thought Danarius handed over his favorite slave out of the goodness of his heart. But Fenris was determined to find out at least something about Alexius, even if was just scandalous gossip. He wouldn't fail Danarius.

-

Breakfast was a subdued affair. Fenris recognized the handful of slaves from his own house, including the quiet blond girl who often helped their cook. She was too young, in Fenris's opinion, to be out on her own. But he wouldn't question Danarius's decision. He watched them move seamlessly with Alexius's house slaves while he was relegated to the far wall. None of the other slaves seemed to know what to do with him and in fact, he was much better suited to dinner parties than a quiet family breakfast.

Alexius tore open a few letters brought to him while he sipped coffee. His breakfast lay mostly untouched. Felix helped himself to seconds and thirds, and Fenris concentrated on him briefly. He looked young, late teens or very early twenties, perhaps a year or two older than Fenris himself. Florentina, her face free of cosmetics, hair loose around her shoulders now, nibbled on a buttered croissant, casting looks in Alexius's direction.

Alexius sighed. "Erimond's niece fell ill on the way home from the party. He's demanding reparations for what was surely our fault – poison, he wagers."

Felix rolled his eyes and lifted his mug. Halfway to his lips, he stopped and held it out. A slave immediately filled it and – to Fenris's surprise and confusion – Felix _thanked_ the elf before sipping his coffee. "Erimond's own fault. He forced her to sample everything before he ate anything himself. She overextended herself."

"The way he goes on about himself, you'd think he was raised Orlesian," Florentina added.

The conversation became mere background noise to Fenris, who watched the subtle movements of the other slaves. In his house, if a cup was left too long unattended, the cook heard about it later, and punishments were doled out in earnest. But here, not only was it excused, but Alexius and his family appeared to be thankful. The slaves nodded – not bowed – in reply. A show, then? An act for Danarius's slaves? But what would be the point of the smoke screen? Unless it was as transparent as all that. Fenris knew that Faustinus Scaevola treated his slaves well, was even known to weep for one that died in last year's Provings, though Fenris suspected he was more upset over the cost of the slave - the loss of coin rather than the slave himself. This seemed different somehow.

The last of the dishes cleared away, Florentina stood, Alexius and his son half-rising as she did. She leaned down awkwardly twice to kiss each man on the cheek before excusing herself. Alexius slid a few of his correspondence toward Felix, who picked them up to read them over.

"Fenris," Alexius said, breaking Fenris of his reverie. "Could you fetch us a few pens and an inkwell? And the leather-bound journal on my desk in the study."

"I – er…" Fenris had no idea where the study was, not having had the official tour yet. He'd been given a brief schedule of the family's activities and told to stand quietly until he was needed. Irritating that Danarius more or less stated he could take charge to watch the others when _he_ was the one being ordered about by _them_.

Alexius glanced over his shoulder. "Just down the hall, third on the left," he instructed with a slight smile before turning back to Felix and the letters.

Fenris hurried away, frustrated and embarrassed that he'd failed on the very first order given to him. Regardless of his true mission, making Danarius look like a fool was not something he wished to accomplish. Even if his spying yielded little or no results, he would not appear inept. But fetching and serving weren't things he'd been trained for. Perhaps at supper Alexius would be entertaining. He could pour wine or play an instrument to show off his more mundane abilities.

He reached the study and found immediately what Alexius requested. The scribbles on the parchment he knew were words, but not what they said. He recognized one – 'Magister' – only because it so often preceded Danarius's name. He assumed the next word was 'Alexius'. Scowling, he gathered up the supplies and hurried back to the dining room, not wanting to lend any more credence to the suspicion of why he was there.

"Thank you," Alexius said absently as Fenris set everything down.

Fenris frowned. Was he supposed to respond? The other slaves didn't, and Alexius didn't seem to require a response, engrossed in his conversation with his son.

"Oh, that will be all for now," Alexius added, glancing back at him once more. "Have Alina give you a proper tour of the house and assigned duties. You'll attend us at dinner. We're having a bit of company."

"Yes, Master Alexius," Fenris said, and bowed low, as Danarius required of his slaves. He faltered at the raised eyebrow from Alexius, wondering if he'd done something wrong, and hurried out before he could offend the man further.

"Curious elf," he heard Alexius say.

"Well look who owns him," Felix replied.

With that cryptic conversation in his head, Fenris quickly slipped into a passageway downstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Cleaning and cooking, while dull, weren't things Fenris was used to doing. After wearing a hole in one of Alexius's tunics and breaking a wine glass stem, Fenris was told to find something else to do. He roamed the passages, ducking into unused rooms, memorizing the layout of the house. The estate boasted a large library, larger even than Danarius's, and not for the first time did Fenris regret his illiteracy. What stories did they hold? What histories was he missing? His own self-pity would not help his master, though.

It wasn't difficult to eavesdrop on the other slaves, walking silently through the house to listen as they changed bed linens or cleaned out a fireplace. Florentina was due in a few weeks' time. Felix had successfully completed his studies in the Minrathous Circle. He would take his father's seat in the Magisterium when Alexius retired. It was all very boring, the family almost sounding too good to be true. One of the slaves – the maid, Alina – appeared to be extremely fond of Felix, and Fenris wondered further if perhaps the young master took a liking to her. Beyond what was considered appropriate, of course. Danarius would appreciate even the smallest scandal. But the family was infuriatingly _nice_.

He watched the slaves move about the halls, lurked in shadows, watched as they cleaned up after the midday meal. They chatted amiably about the party, about Erimond's niece and the boastful magister himself. Sleeves rolled up to wash linens or a pot, Fenris didn't see any scars, no signs of the slaves being bled. If the family used a slave for a blood magic ritual and left them fully intact, they must be accomplished healers. It wasn't reassuring. Fenris looked down at his own arm, two thin lines breaking the lyrium brands where Danarius must have bled him long ago. He didn't remember now.

Now he was too valuable for something like that.

The rest of the day found him missing Danarius, missing the routine of the house. By this time, he would be curled up at his master's feet, listening to Danarius read to him, or out in the yard practicing his sword work. After dinner, he would pour his master a glass of wine and they'd retire to bed. Not that he slept in Danarius's bed every night, but he missed the company more than anything. His fellows from Danarius's house gave him a wide berth, and those from Alexius's house seemed to take their cues from them. No one knew what to make of him, and only Alina took the time to speak to him. But even that was in the form of simple orders.

Maker, what was he doing here? Danarius trusted him, but the others were in a better position to wrangle secrets. He lay in bed, fretting quietly until Alina found him and ordered him upstairs. They needed someone to help pour the wine while the others served.

"Master Dorian Pavus is attending dinner tonight. We're not sure if his father will be here as well, but he's a perfectionist. Don't mess up."

Fenris scowled, but dressed in the sleeveless red and gold tunic and billowy trousers. He much would have preferred wearing Danarius's colors, dark blue and black with white trim, but he was here to represent the Alexius house. He walked up with the rest of the servants, stood awkwardly against the wall while the family filed in, Florentina on her husband's arm. Alexius held the chair for her, and Fenris didn't miss the small, almost giddy smile he wore as he helped her into her seat. Perhaps not an arranged marriage then, like so many others in Tevinter. Still, it was useful knowledge to have.

Twenty minutes into the dinner, Fenris making sure their glasses were filled when requested, the door opened. Fenris tensed; an entrance into one of Danarius's dinners so late meant an affront, an insult to the host. But he sensed no tension in the room; in fact, Alexius appeared amused, while Felix shook his head. And the guest? Fenris glanced up as the man entered, caramel skin and fine black mustache, hair perfectly coiffed. He raised his arms wide as if expecting the occupants to applaud him simply for existing and, Fenris thought, why wouldn't they?

"Dorian," Alexius said, a note of amusement in his tone. "You're late."

"Fashionably so," Dorian replied with a theatric bow. He removed what Fenris could only identify as a cape draped over his outfit, which was decorated with silvery accoutrements that caught the light from the chandelier. He smiled broadly at the family.

And he was… stunning.

Fenris looked down quickly to cover the heat rising in his cheeks. Danarius entertained old, dusty senators and matrons who were many years his senior. Clearly Alexius kept a much younger house. Dorian couldn't have been that much older than Felix. Fenris watched him round the table first to Florentina, bending to kiss her on the cheek and pat her stomach.

"How are mother and the little bundle of joy? Felix, ready to be a big brother? Though I suppose I'll have to teach the little one how to dress properly."

"And I'll be teaching him proper manners," Felix retorted easily.

Dorian laughed, shaking Alexius's hand before clapping Felix on the shoulder, and dropped into the seat next to him. "Father won't be attending tonight."

"Is he well?" Florentina asked.

Fenris took the wine bottle and followed the others in step to attend Dorian.

"Oh you know Father. Everything is always an emergency. He couldn't take a few hours out of his schedule to-" Dorian paused as he glanced at Fenris, holding his glass up for wine.

Fenris pursed his lips together, watching the scarlet liquid slide from bottle to glass, stopping at the appropriate height, and stepped back, all too aware of the man's keen eyes on him. No, not him, his markings. He'd seen the others looking as well, and wondered how much of a rumor he was around Minrathous. Danarius's guests always seemed intimidated by him, a feeling that Fenris liked. But here it was something else. Scrutiny. Pity? He hoped it wasn't pity.

Dorian cleared his throat, took a sip, and continued. "Anyway, he sends his regrets that he couldn't be here."

"You missed an evening last night," Felix said, as they resumed their meal.

"Of that I've no doubt. I hear Erimond is making a fuss over his niece. Something about poisoned tarts. Alexius, how could you?"

Alexius sighed. "It's always something with that man. I didn't even invite him. He simply… shows up."

"Oh I'm aware," Dorian acquiesced. "Father held an impromptu meeting." He took a bite of steak, Fenris watching as the tines slid from between his lips. "Just two weeks ago, something about the landowner's tax, I believe."

"You should pay closer attention to father's affairs," Alexius admonished. "You'll be-"

"Yes, yes," Dorian interrupted, waving the fork. "But this is a story about Erimond's bad taste, not my complete disinterest in accounting, yes? Yes. Erimond shows up mid-dinner-"

Fenris half-listened to the rest, paying closer attention to the mannerisms of the tale-teller than the tale itself. He knew more about Dorian's father, Halward Pavus, being in direction contention with Danarius. He'd met him briefly at a gathering the previous year – well, as much as a slave could meet a magister. A short, almost weaselly-looking man with a shrewd sense of business. Danarius hated him, and by proxy so did Fenris. He had no idea his son was so…

The table erupted in laughter, Dorian with a smug grin, proud of the anecdote that caused the family such mirth.

In the midst of the amusement, Dorian glanced over, catching Fenris's eye. Fenris saw his lips curl into a smirk before they were hidden behind the wine glass, and wondered.


	5. Chapter 5

Fenris followed Felix and Dorian into the lounge after dinner. Florentina bade 'her boys' goodnight, and Alexius begged off a nightcap, citing an early morning meeting. Deciding that attending to two presumptive heirs of the Magisterium would be infinitely more interesting than skulking around the kitchens listening for idle gossip, Fenris trailed them in, shutting the door as Felix instructed, and fetched two brandy glasses.

"Thank you," Felix said as he took a glass and settled into one of the armchairs.

The air grew heavy, Fenris felt his markings pull against his skin and frowned as they lit in the dim room. A jet of fire flew from Dorian's fingers into the cold fireplace, and the room was immediately bathed in warmth and an orange glow. Trying to shake off the odd sensation he felt whenever his brands came into too close contact with magic, Fenris handed Dorian the second glass of brandy. His hand shook slightly, and he pulled back, embarrassed.

Dorian flopped elegantly onto a loveseat, leaning back against the arm, crossing his legs. His eyes never left Fenris as he addressed Felix. "Not one of yours." It wasn't a question, but clearly he wanted an answer.

Felix sighed. "No. Fenris came to us as a… gift. It's not looking good for those who fell ill, and the early summer trade was poor. You know how father prefers bringing in families or the younger ones. So Magister Danarius-"

Dorian snorted in derision.

"-decided to lend us a few of his own. Including his personal guard."

"Seems a bit of an ostentatious addition just to replace a few house slaves," Dorian said, swirling his glass, finally looking at Felix.

"Father knows what he's doing," Felix answered somewhat cryptically. "There was talk in the last senate meeting about the future of the trade."

"They'll never quash it."

"The Imperium would crumble," Felix agreed.

"Such a shame that would be."

Fenris couldn't tell by his tone if Dorian was being sarcastic or serious. His cadence was unlike anyone's he'd heard, and it was difficult to tell how genuine he was.

"What do you think, Fenris?" Felix asked.

Fenris startled slightly at being addressed directly. "Master Felix?" he asked, hoping for clarification, unnerved at being told to do anything other than to bring the decanter over.

Dorian let out a delicate laugh. "Skittish."

Felix shot him a look before turning back to Fenris. "About the possible upcoming bill that's being talked about, regarding slavery."

Fenris shifted uncomfortably. What were they trying to do? To see if he was interested in being free? To gain some insight into Danarius's house? "I… have no opinion."

Another laugh from Dorian as he shifted to turn fully toward Fenris now. "Everyone has an opinion on everything. It's one of the best and worst things about opinions."

"Dorian…" Felix started.

Dorian waved a hand at him. "Hush. You're the one who started with this business after all." He sipped from his glass, licking his lips delicately, turning his dark gaze on Fenris. "Pray tell."

Fenris lowered his eyes, uncomfortable with their stares. "I… I do not believe anything like that would come to pass. If the Archon proposed it, he would be quickly dealt with, as history has shown." He unconsciously flexed his free hand, fingers curling into a fist and relaxing. He'd never really given it any thought. It wasn't a conversation brought up often in Danarius's house. Of course Fenris heard of the last bill on slavery that had been proposed and subsequently shot down, but having no personal interest in it, he largely ignored the controversy surrounding it. His place was with Danarius. Maker, how he wished he was with him now.

"You're probably right," Felix said, eyeing Dorian.

"But how do _you_ feel about it?" Dorian pressed, not taking his eyes off Fenris.

"Dorian," Felix admonished. "Stop."

Dorian scoffed. "Shall we talk about something else then? Your markings. Are they truly lyrium?"

Fenris shifted again. "Yes."

Felix made a sympathetic noise. "I'd heard about the success – if one could call it that – when I was younger. When it happened. The city was abuzz with rumors."

"It did make a stir in among the elite. Subsequent trials were swept under the carpet, but the death count was in the dozens, wasn't it?"

"Dorian."

Fenris quietly cleared his throat. He didn't remember anything from before his markings, and after he'd been kept away from prying eyes for a time. Danarius wanted him to recover before he tested them fully. And test them he did, calling a gala of some of Tevinter's most powerful magisters. Fenris recalled standing in the middle of a large hall, being put through his paces, a practiced dance that Danarius taught him, showing off the marks. Since then, he learned better how to control them, how to phase completely into a ghost-like form. Which bore him yet another nickname, though lesser used: Fen'Elgar, the Spirit Wolf.

"It's the same everywhere now though," Dorian said, draining his glass.

Fenris dutifully refilled it before starting to retreat to his place by the sideboard. Dorian's hand shot out, fingers encircling his wrist gently but firmly, and Fenris had to fight the instinct to pull away. He inhaled sharply, feeling the thrum of magic in Dorian's fingertips, the lyrium lines in his wrist and hand glowing ever so slightly.

"Fascinating," Dorian breathed. "May I?"

Fenris wasn't sure what he was asking. In fact, he wasn't sure _why_ he was asking either. Most mages simply took what they wanted. But to say no would be a poor reflection on his training, and subsequently on Danarius. So he nodded.

Dorian set his glass down, then took the decanter from Fenris as well before he pulled him to the cushion to sit. Felix shifted to watched, a look of apprehension on his face.

"Don't fret so, Felix," Dorian said quietly. He took Fenris's hand in both of his own, turning it palm up and traced the lines with a finger. "They're deep."

Fenris felt his skin tingle, not just down the lyrium, but the spaces in between as well. "I… think so."

"Do they hurt?"

"Occasionally." Danarius kept a regular ritual to deal with the pain, and semi-frequently ordered two of the house slaves to massage him afterward.

Another sympathetic noise from Felix, and Fenris chanced a glance up at him while Dorian examined the lines. His expression was unfathomable. Compassion? But why? He was used to being looked upon in fear or confusion, or even envy. With Danarius, it was pride, whenever he successfully impressed one of his rivals with his abilities.

"Does this hurt?" Dorian asked, holding his palm over Fenris's. A small ball of magical energy formed between them, whitish purple. "Fascinating. It seems to amplify the natural raw magic and – do you feel it, Felix? The ambient energy in the room?"

"It's definitely heavier," Felix acknowledged.

Fenris bit his lip as the lyrium lines lit up, causing him to shiver. His skin was warm, almost burning where the magic touched him. "It does not hurt."

"Not that I'm taxing myself in the slightest, but usually you can feel it when you've exhausted yourself. When the end of your ability to cast is coming to an end. I can only imagine what having someone like you around might be use–" Dorian stopped abruptly, clearing his throat. The ball of magical energy disappeared. "That was rather rude of me, I apologize."

"Dorian, always sticking your foot in your mouth," Felix said with a note of fondness.

"Well, I'd hate to think that I lowered myself to Danarius's standards. Treating slaves like walking magical energy deposits. I can't imagine why he would need a slave that… well. I suppose I can," he finished with a note of distaste.

Fenris frowned, confused. The sole purpose for his markings was to enhance Danarius's spells, to provide him the necessary lyrium and augmentation for his power. It was preferable to being bled. Did Dorian disagree with that?

Dorian finally released his hand and took up his brandy glass, topping it off. Felix settled back in his chair, shaking his head.

"You can head downstairs, Fenris," Felix said. "Thank you."

Confused more than ever, Fenris quickly took his leave, markings still aglow, skin still warm and tingling.


	6. Chapter 6

The more time Fenris spent in the Alexius household, the more confused he became. He attended them at dinner, where Dorian appeared a permanent staple. He learned that Alexius was Dorian's patron, taking the young man on after he completed his training in the Circle. They spoke at length, late into the evening sometimes, Felix joining them on occasion. The talk of magical theory made Fenris's head ache, the demonstrations provided causing his markings to pull and flare almost embarrassingly. Thankfully though, neither Felix nor Dorian seemed inclined to ask him again about them.

"He means to buy all of us then?"

Fenris stopped short. He'd been heading upstairs to attend party preparations. A small gathering, he'd been told, but Alexius wanted him in attendance for the half dozen or so magisters and their families. An impromptu celebration for the child of one of their friends being accepted into the Minrathous Circle. Fenris thought it was an odd thing to throw a party for. Mages were born in Tevinter regularly and under the law, they technically _had_ to register with a Circle. If only to appease the southern Chantry to avoid an Exalted March.

"That's what Master Felix said."

The first voice belonged to one of his own house, the slave who acted as butler sometimes. Namor? Namir? Fenris couldn't remember; he wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the others. The second was Alina, Alexius's maid.

"Even Fenris?"

Fenris bristled. He knew how the others felt about him. The note of hopefulness in Namir's tone with his first question disappeared in his second. Cautionary disdain.

"I suppose," Alina replied. "He did say all of them. Not that I'd mind. Maker knows we've needed the help since the others fell ill. They… didn't make it."

Silence for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Fenris scowled. Compassion was well and good, but Namir was one of Danarius's. Was he looking forward to being purchased out from under him? Did he want to stay here? He inched forward to the doorframe and peered in. Silhouetted in firelight, Fenris recognized the stances of two people who were familiar, intimate. Namir leaned down to kiss Alina softly, confirming his suspicions.

"It's fine," Alina whispered when they parted. "Your staying would… ease the blow."

"Then we must hope that Master Alexius goes through with the rumors. And that Danarius allows it."

Bristling, Fenris slinked away upstairs. He knew not everyone in his house felt similarly toward Danarius, but to hear blatant disrespect was unnerving. Danarius would want to know. There should be punishments for this. And to serve in a prestigious house like Danarius's, to want to trade for someone like Alexius?

Fenris stopped at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall as he frowned. He thought about the time spent with Danarius, the careful gauging of his master's moods, the punishments for failure. But it was only because Danarius wanted the best out of his slaves. Where Alexius, the man was an unknown entity. He appeared to be pleasant, but wouldn't that change if there was a serious transgression? Not to mention they were technically his guests, on loan from Danarius. Alexius wouldn't want to insult Danarius by having his slaves beaten or bled.

But Namir was quick to write Danarius off in favor of Alexius. Fenris wasn't so sure. He lived for praise from his master, overjoyed when he pleased him. But it grew more difficult with each passing day to gain that approval, his master's moods changing with the tide. And his apprentice… Fenris couldn't even complain about her treatment of him, as Danarius seemed so fond of her. Hadriana always had a harsh word for him, as if he'd done something to offend her simply by existing. He tried to do as he was told, but he'd come to resent the days she stayed with them. Perhaps she was jealous of Danarius's favored treatment of him? Danarius seemed so distant when she was around as well… Was his master growing tired of him? Was it Hadriana's influence?

He hated the doubt now that swirled inside him. Not that it mattered. Even if Alexius planned to offer a sum for them, he was almost positive he wouldn't be included in the sale. No amount of coin would loosen Danarius's hold over him. Not when he'd poured so much already into training. Fenris looked down at his bare arms, the lyrium lines dull and white for the time being. How much did it cost him to have the procedure completed? Not to mention the value of the lyrium itself. He was too valuable to be thrown by the wayside, not that he had a very high opinion of himself. Danarius would surely laugh at the idea of selling him to _anyone_ , let alone Alexius.

Deciding that it was best not to worry about it right now, to trust that Danarius wouldn't simply give him away, Fenris completed his trek to the ball room. In Danarius's house, he was merely a statue, a figure that poured wine and looked intimidating. Here, Florentina seemed to like him, calling him, "charming" on one occasion and liked to keep him close during tea. He suspected she enjoyed impressing the other women who came to call, talking about him as if he were a cherished pet rather than a warrior slave. He wasn't sure how to feel about _that_ either.

Best he finish out his time here and hope Danarius didn't expect too much from him in the way of secrets. The only thing he'd managed to come to believe was that Alexius was researching something impossible – time manipulation magic – and was getting closer to a solution. However, he doubted that Danarius hadn't heard of it. Alexius didn't appear to be a very private person, and what was on the surface seemed to be the truth of it all.

"Fenris?"

Fenris jumped, as if his errant thoughts were laid out for all to see, and turned quickly. "Mistress," he answered at once with a low bow.

Florentina smiled softly at him. "The guests will be here shortly. Is Alina almost ready?"

"She was preparing the last of the refreshments, I believe." Not quite a lie.

"Wonderful." She touched his arm gently. "Please go check on Felix to make sure he's ready."

He merely nodded, tight-lipped, and watched her leave, his skin warm where she'd touched it. It was a familiar gesture for her, used to random affection from her husband and son, from Dorian and others. His training kept him from bristling at the touch, but not from expecting punishment. Danarius graced him with affection when he'd done something right, or to show his possession. But he would also strike in anger if Fenris took a misstep or otherwise embarrassed him. Florentina was _always_ soft, _always_ pleasant, and gave affection freely without expectations. Rubbing his arm, he left the ballroom dutifully to attend to Felix, thinking he'd be glad when this was over.


	7. Chapter 7

Giggling girls would be the death of him.

Funny, he always thought it would be at the hands of his own master, or perhaps a demon, maybe even the Qunari during an attack while they were on Seheron. But no, surrounded by at least a dozen children, more than half of them girls and all of them under the age of twelve, Fenris was quite sure his death would be agonizing and long, ringing with high-pitched shrieks of laughter. Two of the boys were currently chasing the girls, who'd flock from one end of the room to the other. Avoiding them was as simple as standing back against the wall, but he'd been called to serve. Sparkling cider, not wine, though most of the adults in the room looked as if they could use a drink.

He glanced to the glass doors that opened onto a large balcony, wondering if he'd be missed if he stepped away just for a moment. Alina skillfully dodged the little ones running around her skirts while she balanced a large tray of finger sandwiches. Fenris never had the opportunity to witness a celebration of someone's child being admitted to a Circle, and he quite hoped he never had to again. Besides the headache he felt forming behind his eyes, there was something… off. He couldn't quite say what it was, but instinct kept him alive thus far, and he didn't plan on ignoring it.

The door to the ballroom opened and he tensed, but relaxed as Dorian stepped through, removing his cloak and handing it to one of the servants with a smile. A little girl shrieked. Fenris winced, eye twitching as she ran toward Dorian, excitedly repeating his name. Dorian laughed and caught her as she jumped up into his arms, and he spun her around before planting a kiss on her cheek. A niece? Cousin? Fenris didn't bother keeping the genealogy straight. The great families of Tevinter were all interconnected somehow.

He watched her pat him on the chest repeatedly, babbling something he couldn't quite make out over the rest of the noise. Dorian grinned and held out his free hand, a burst of blue flame in his palm. The girl's eyes widened and she grabbed for it, her own little hand passing through unharmed. Dorian closed his fist around the flame and tossed it into the air where it exploded into a shower of multi-colored lights and sparks. She wasn't the only child who cheered; clearly he was well-loved among them. Wriggling, she dropped from his arms to continue her play with the rest while Dorian strode further into the room to speak with the other adults.

"Faring well?"

Fenris's mouth tightened as he turned to address Felix, who'd caught him in an unguarded moment. He hoped the young master hadn't noticed where his eyes roamed, and offered the bottle of cider.

"Thank you," Felix said, raising his glass for Fenris to pour. "Could you hold this a moment?"

Fenris took it silently, watching as Felix removed a silver flask embossed with a dragon from the depths of his doublet. He unscrewed the cap and poured a measure of clear liquid into the glass before capping it and returning it to his pocket, thanked him again, and took the glass from him.

"I fear I don't have our friend's patience when it comes to small, screaming children," Felix said almost apologetically.

_Our_ friend, Fenris thought. But then, the members of the Alexius family were always saying things like that. As if they forgot what he was there to do. Not just in the capacity of a slave, but that he belonged to Danarius. Odd though they were, Fenris couldn't count any of them as being foolish or ignorant. He determined they were luring him to a false sense of security, to try to make him feel a part of the family, perhaps to instill guilt for what he was sent there to do.

Felix sighed. "Perhaps it's different when they're your own. I'll marry one day and produce an heir. With any luck he won't be-"

A wail broke through the room, one of the boys sitting red-faced as he cried, holding up his hand which bled from the palm. Parents rushed in while Fenris and Felix looked on, the latter sipping at his drink.

"He should not have been pulling her hair," Fenris said of the girl who stood apart from the others, holding a bloody hairpin, looking chastised. He frowned. "Apologies," he said quickly, hoping Felix wouldn't take offense. After all, it wasn't his place to have an opinion on the matter.

"Probably right," Felix agreed. "But she got hers back. I remember when I was six-"

"Boring the servants with nostalgia?" Dorian asked, coming over to sling an arm around Felix's shoulder. He took the cup from his friend's hand and drank before Felix could protest. Feigning shock, he stepped away. "Alcohol, Felix? At a children's party? Tsk tsk. What _would_ your father say?"

"He'd ask me to spike his drink," Felix said calmly, reaching for the cup.

Dorian pulled it out of his reach, hand against Felix's chest to keep him at bay while he took another sip. "Mm. Quite good. I'll give it back if you give me the bottle?"

"Not a chance." Felix smiled, reaching again for it. "Give it here, Dorian."

Dorian laughed, stepping away, silver light emitting from his fingertips, encasing Felix in a static prison. Fenris winced, moving aside as his markings pulled at his skin. Felix scowled, hands balling into fists, dark shadows erupting from between his clenched fingers. The shadows ate at the silvery prison, sucking the spell away like a vacuum before disappearing into wisps.

"You're getting better at that," Dorian acknowledged, handing Felix the cup.

"Since you seem to enjoy using it on me constantly," Felix muttered. "Did you bring a gift for-"

The door opened again; Fenris glanced over to see an unfamiliar elf step through, cloaked, hood pulled low over his eyes. No one else appeared to notice him; a spell, perhaps, to keep him shielded? Instinct took over, Fenris shoving past Felix and Dorian, ignoring their surprise and confusion. The other elf uncloaked, some sort of magical rune in his palm. The bottle of cider crashed to the floor as Fenris threw himself at the elf, knocking him down.

The rune exploded, unguided, a dozen demonic imps pouring from a tear in the Veil. The elf drew a jagged blade, red eyes flashing madly. Fenris jumped back before he could swipe at him, all too aware of the shouts of people around him. The elf disappeared in a dark cloud of smoke, Fenris whirling at once to see where he went. A startled cry from the corner of the room and he saw: The elf held the knife to Felix's throat, gripping Felix's wrist with his other hand, arm wrenched behind his back painfully. Dorian lay on the floor next to them, unconscious but otherwise unharmed. The tear in the Veil closed, the mages in the room working quickly to subdue the imps, though Fenris felt the residual magic in his very skin.

"Magister Erimond sends his regards!" the elf shrieked.

"Felix!"

That from Alexius, but Fenris was already moving, barely visible to the naked eye, his markings reacting to the magical energy in the air. Ghost-like, he didn't hesitate, closing the distance between them in seconds, phasing through Felix, solidifying once he passed. The sound of bone crunching, organs rupturing, a soft, squelching noise as flesh and muscle rendered, ripping and tearing. The knife clattered to the ground, blade shining with some poison. Felix fell forward, but Fenris was there, catching him before he collapsed, both of them covered in viscera.

"Did he cut you?" Fenris asked at once, pulling Felix's chin up to look at his neck. A thin line of blood, black, not red. He pressed his lips to the wound and sucked, tasting the foul poison. Deathroot? Mixed with something else, though he couldn't be sure. He spat it out before drawing again, until the cut oozed scarlet. He lifted his hand to wipe his mouth with the back of his wrist, then thought better, a small chunk of flesh caught on his sleeve.

"Fenris," Felix breathed, coughing, gripping his arm. "Are you all right – where's Dorian?"

Someone jostled Fenris. Alexius. In his haste to get to his son, he knocked Fenris aside. Immediate danger passed, Fenris turned to the unconscious Dorian, frowning as he touched two fingers to his neck, relieved to feel a strong pulse. Stunned by a spell? Regardless, if he'd been rendered unconscious through magical means, only a spell would fix it. He was alive, and that was enough for Fenris. He looked at Alexius, kneeling in blood, cupping Felix's face, making sure his son was alive.

"I'm fine, Father," Felix repeated again.

Ignoring the less than savory state of his son's forehead, Alexius pressed a careful kiss to it. "Thank the Maker," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

Felix let out a shaky, nervous laugh. "Father, I'm fine. Dorian's-"

"He's alive," Fenris interjected. "Unconscious."

A woman cried out, the three of them turning as one. Fenris saw the aftermath of the party – ruined decorations, smashed tables, burnt clothing. The doors flung open, half the guests fled. The other half crowded around Florentina, who collapsed, kneeling, one hand clutching her stomach. Alexius rushed to her side.

"The baby," she whispered, though in the quiet of the room, Fenris heard her clearly.

With help, Alexius pulled her to her feet and toward the door. Before he left, he looked directly at Fenris, expression full of gratitude. "Thank you."

Not knowing what to say, Fenris merely watched them leave, overcome by the emotion he felt from those two simple words.

Alexius… was _proud_ of him.


	8. Chapter 8

Dorian awoke with a simple spell, shaking his head, annoyed. Felix started to look him over, but Dorian pushed him away.

"Maker's breath, Felix, what the hell just happened? And why are you covered in – oh, that is _disgusting_. What am I sitting in?"

"Elf," Felix replied.

Fenris would have laughed at the expression on Dorian's face had the seriousness of the situation not impressed itself upon him. He stood, helping Felix to his feet, and watched both men take in the scene before them.

"That elf," Felix said, shaking a bit of blood from his hands, nose scrunching in disgust. "He said Erimond sent him. But why?"

"Snubbed again for another of your father's parties, I expect. Or payback for his niece getting sick? Erimond always did like things dramatic."

"A murder attempt, though-"

Dorian shook his head. "It's not a true party unless you hear about an attempted murder. Yours just happened to be the next on the list. Shall we move on? It's starting to reek. Though that could just be you." He inhaled and gagged. "Yes, that's definitely you. And Fenris. Ugh."

Fenris frowned, looking down at himself. He took the worst of it, it seemed.

"Fenris," Felix said, touching his arm. "Thank you for my life. Come. Let's get cleaned up and then attend to mother."

"Your mother?" Dorian asked, following Felix from the room.

Fenris followed, noting the blood trail their footsteps left in the hall carpet. He wondered if Alina would have to clean that up. More than likely. He recalled her earlier conversation with Namir, and found it difficult to dredge up any pity for her.

"She went into labor. Father's looking after her now. I'm sure we'll have something to good to celebrate before the day is out."

"Yes, a birth would do nicely to replace the memories of a dozen shrieking fire imps tearing up the ball room. Not to mention the near death of my best friend," Dorian added, smirking fondly at Felix.

Fenris hesitated at the door of the bathing chamber. Not that he never attended Danarius, but Felix never requested it of him, and the servants' bath was much less opulent than the marble room before him. Golden dividers for the bathing stalls, levers for water, runes for heat to adjust the temperature, and a sunken pool at the far end for soaking. Dorian moved to one of the sinks, lip curling as he surveyed himself in the mirror. His clothes had taken the worst of it, but his proximity to the explosion still mandated that he bathe to be presentable.

To Fenris's chagrin, both men began to undress.

Felix glanced over. "It's all right. You can use this one," he said, gesturing to the stalls. "Father won't care. You saved my life, Fenris; you deserve it."

A present. A thank you for a job well done. Fenris wasn't sure if he appreciated it or hated it. Blurring the lines between master and slave was never a good idea. With Danarius, he knew his place, even when Danarius praised him. Felix appeared to think they were equals. But that was absurd. He could never be equal to these men. Still, one time wouldn't hurt. He would wash, then return to his duties. After all, there was nothing wrong with being given a reward. Danarius would see the logic in it.

"Are you all right?" Dorian asked Felix, tucking a crooked finger under his chin to look at his neck. "Did he hurt you? You're cut."

Felix reached up, wincing as his fingers brushed the wound. "It's fine. Fenris removed the poison."

Dorian looked over at Fenris, an unguarded gaze, his expression similar to Alexius's, before looking back at Felix. His palm filled with a warm blue glow which he touched to Felix's neck. "Not my specialty but there. Good as new."

Felix offered a smile in return, stripping the last of his gore-encrusted clothing before stepping to the furthest stall. Fenris heard the water turn on, and started to undress slowly. Dorian sighed, looking back again to the mirror, stopping suddenly. Fenris blushed, watching his reflection and realizing Dorian's eyes were on him, and self-consciously held his tunic in front of himself.

"Mind getting the bell pull?" Dorian asked. "We'll need some fresh clothes. Yourself included."

Fenris nodded, wondering if he imagined the wink from Dorian, and dutifully pulled the rope for the servant's bell before stepping into one of the stalls. It took him a moment to work the levers until the water cascaded from the mouth of a golden carved dragon's head. It was more opulent than Danarius's own bathing chambers in his estate on Seheron, and not something Fenris ever experienced before for himself. He looked down, watching as the blood rinsed from his hair and skin, the water pooling, turning pink before it disappeared down the drain.

"Master Felix." Namir's voice.

Fenris watched Felix poke his head out of the stall next to his to address him. "Could I bother you to bring up fresh outfits for myself and Dorian? And for Fenris as well. I assume you heard about what happened at the party."

Fenris chanced a glance over the stall wall, ducking his head down just as quickly as Namir caught his eye, a flash of anger and jealousy on his face. He was already ostracized among the other slaves in his house. This would surely make it worse.

_What do I care what they think?_ Fenris thought, reaching for the bar of soap and washcloth on the marble shelf. No doubt Namir would think to report this to Danarius, trying to curry favor with him. It didn't matter. Danarius wouldn't care. Would he? Fenris would explain it. He'd saved Felix's life, and Danarius could use this somehow to make Alexius indebted to him. It would please Danarius, and he'd be praised for his quick thinking. Irritated and slightly anxious now, he scrubbed his skin clean.

"Very good, Master Felix," Namir said, and Fenris heard the door close.

"I hope you're not keeping _that_ one," Dorian said, amused. "So stand-offish."

"Think of it from their point of view," Felix replied. "You've only ever known one house all your life and then suddenly your master expects you to serve another family."

"At least your family is better than Danarius." A pause. "Sorry, Fenris."

Fenris frowned, looking at the washcloth in his hand. Similar to previous conversations he'd had with Dorian, he found himself not knowing what to say. No one apologized to slaves. No one thanked them either, yet here he was, standing in Master Alexius's bathing room, expected to answer Dorian for the slight against his master. Should he accept it? He knew how these people felt about Danarius. Even Danarius knew. He should answer with vitriol, be angry that these people belittled his master multiple times. Yet… yet he didn't want to.

"It is not necessary," he said finally.

"Do you think your father will address Erimond?" Dorian continued, talking to Felix now.

"I've no doubt. Though perhaps not publicly. He wouldn't want to cause a scene."

"Shame," Dorian said airily. "Erimond seems to love them so."

"No one was killed," Felix said, and Fenris heard the frown in his tone. "I wonder if that was his original intention… To…"

"Don't think of it," Dorian snapped.

They fell silent as Namir entered, setting down three bundles of clothing. "Anything else, Master Felix?"

"That will be all, Namir, thank you." He waited until the door closed again before speaking. "Everyone dies, Dorian," he said patiently. "It's a matter of-"

"It's _not_ a matter of being assassinated at a party by some trumped up prima donna who felt slighted because your father denied him an invitation. Oh, but do go on, excusing his actions because he didn't want to be Crassius's plus one!"

Fenris winced; Dorian started calmly enough, his voice rose harshly by the end. The water turned off and Fenris peered over the divider, watching as Dorian stalked angrily from his stall toward the bench which held the bundles. He'd just meant to glance, to gauge Dorian's anger, but found himself taking in the tanned, taut muscles. This was not an old magister gone to seed, lazy with a dozen slaves surrounding him, fetching his meals and bending to every whim. Even Danarius was soft in the middle, but Dorian…

He quickly looked away before he was found out, and concentrated on scrubbing the blood and bits of gore from his hair. Felix did not respond right away, turning the water off and stepping out. Fenris heard him dry off and start to dress, the rustle of cloth as the awkward silence held.

Dorian sighed. He spoke quietly, but Fenris could still make out the plaintive words. "You are my best friend, Felix. No, listen. If anything were to happen to you…"

Fenris chanced another glance over the divider. Dorian pulled on a pair of trousers, untied and hanging loosely from the waist, a towel draped over his shoulders. Felix was nearly finished dressing, tying the strings to his tunic, a frown creasing his brow. Dorian laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shove. Felix looked up, finally smiling.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Dorian. Come. We need to check on Mother." He finished tying his tunic and walked out.

Dorian glanced up, catching Fenris's eye. With a smirk, he turned toward him, one hand on a cocked hip, the other taking up the end of the towel to run it over his damp hair. "You're going to drown if you stay in there much longer. No one likes a wet wolf," he said, enunciating the last two words.

Fenris didn't mistake it this time; Dorian definitely winked before turning away to pick up his shirt. Unnerved, Fenris resumed his shower, waiting until he was sure Dorian had left before leaving the stall to dry off and dress.

The Alexius house, he decided, was much too confusing for him. With any luck, the week would end quickly and he'd be returned to Danarius without any further incident.


	9. Chapter 9

It was hours later that Fenris watched the carriage roll away into the night, frowning as he turned from his reflection in the window. Perhaps due to the magic, the stress, or something completely unforeseen, there were complications in the birth. Florentina survived, a skilled healer doing all she could, the midwife apologizing profusely. Guilt twisted his stomach. If he'd gone to Florentina instead of Felix, he could have prevented it, couldn't he have? No one spoke to him; he overheard the other slaves talking about it, Alina shedding tears for her mistress's misfortune. A part of him yearned to go upstairs, to see if there was anything the family needed, but it was not his place. This wasn't his family, and even if it was, they didn't need a slave intruding on their grief.

Fenris rarely thought about life and death beyond keeping Danarius safe. Once, years ago, a slave in their house committed suicide, hanging himself over the main balcony in the foyer. The others worked quickly to remove the body before Danarius saw, but Fenris remembered; one of his earliest memories. The elf was at least two decades his senior, worked in the garden, always had earth beneath his fingernails. If Fenris closed his eyes and concentrated, he could recall the face, the blue lips, the wide, staring eyes. It was the first time he thought about death and what it meant. Was there a Maker? If you committed suicide, did He rebuff you? Was taking your own life a sin? He supposed it was for a slave, since a slave's life was not his own. He thought the gardener selfish. Putting more work on his fellows. But what would drive someone to that?

The baby – Camilla, they named her when they found out she was a girl – didn't have choice. The Maker, if He even had a hand in it, saw fit to take her before she'd even taken her first breath. Fenris tried not to blame himself, to wonder if he'd been quicker, if he could have somehow prevented Erimond's elf from setting off the chaos. Would Alexius blame him? No doubt he was devastated, the way the man loved his family. His grief would be insurmountable, and he would look for someone to take it out on. Why not the slave who failed him? Any favor he curried with Alexius that could be used later as a boon for Danarius gone with the death of one small creature.

Feeling lost, he stood awkwardly in the servants' quarters, looking at the neatly made beds standing in a row. The fire crackled, burning low, begging for another log. He ignored it and strode to his small leather case, pulling clothing from the dresser and started to pack. Regardless of his potential early dismissal for failure, they would be leaving soon. Danarius wouldn't want to stay in Minrathous forever, his estate on Seheron larger and more comfortable. He pulled a black tunic from the drawer, frowning as he flicked it open. A tear on the sleeve and another near the hem. It would need to be mended. And even then it might not be presentable.

"Hm."

Taking out his boot knife, he tore a long strip from it before tossing the rest into the fireplace. Unable to say exactly what cause this impulsiveness, he tied it around his bicep, running his fingers over the silken fabric. He wasn't sure where the custom of wearing black to mourn came from – perhaps Nevarra, where so many were obsessed with death. Regardless, tradition followed. He wondered if there would be a funeral service, then shook his head at his own indulgence. Even if there _was_ a service, he would have no right to attend. Still, a part of him was curious as to Florentina's health.

"What are you doing?"

Fenris turned. Namir stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Slowly Fenris got to his feet, boot knife still in hand.

"I've no current duties," he said defensively. Not that Namir told him what to do. They all more or less took orders here from Alina or the family itself. And in Danarius's house? Well, they knew better than to order him around. He answered to Danarius, and only Danarius.

"I meant with this," Namir said, stepping forward, reaching out to grab at the black strip of fabric.

Fenris stepped back instinctively, jerking his arm out of the way, raising the knife. "Don't touch it."

"You think you'll win favor by pretending you actually cared about the babe? Danarius only wanted you here with us so you could ferry secrets back to him."

" _Master_ Danarius," Fenris seethed, "would appreciate loyalty from his slaves."

"Yes, well, that's going to change, isn't it? When Master Alexius purchases us. And you can go back to being Danarius's whore."

The words barely stung. Fenris knew what the others thought of him and he never dwelled on it, never questioned it. He was Danarius's favorite, and they were jealous. He spent time in his master's bed, but never thought himself a whore. He merely did as he was told, and he was good at what he was trained to be. Did Namir think to insult him by calling him a name?

"Pathetic," Fenris muttered, sheathing the knife, turning his back.

He anticipated the lunge, the weight of his fellow slave, and bent at the knee, grabbing Namir's arm and threw him bodily over his shoulder to the ground.

"What in Andraste's name is going on here?"

Winded, Namir barely moved, but Fenris whirled at once, heart pounding quickly to see the man silhouetted in the doorframe. "Master Alexius. I…"

Alexius, eyes puffy, no doubt from the grief of losing a child, looked older and frailer than Fenris knew him to be. "It's no matter. Are you all right?" he asked, looking at Namir.

"Fenris attacked me-"

"Enough," Alexius snapped, though it lacked any real vitriol. "I saw what happened, and if both of you are good enough to let the matter rest, we'll say no more about it."

"Yes, Master Alexius," Namir said quickly, perhaps thinking that if he hadn't agreed, Alexius would rescind the offer to purchase him.

Fenris bowed his head. "Yes, Master Alexius," he agreed, though not out of any love for Namir. Surprisingly, he found himself not wanting to make things more difficult for Alexius. A courtesy for the man who extended him the same? Possibly.

"Good. Fenris, I've need of you in my study, if you'll follow me."

Fenris pursed his lips but followed, wondering what Alexius would want with him, then immediately realized this was likely his punishment. He'd let harm come to the family's matriarch; it was his fault she'd lost the baby. What punishment would it be, though? Flogging? That was traditional, after all. But in the study? That was unusual. It was large enough to brandish a whip, but the carpet would be ruined with the blood. Not a flogging, then. Besides, Alexius wouldn't want to do any permanent damage to him, not unless he wanted to pay Danarius for it.

The fire in the study was already lit, the drapes over the large windows that flanked the fireplace drawn some time ago. Alexius settled in an armchair and picked up a half-finished glass of whiskey, sighing as he sipped and gestured for Fenris to have a seat. Fenris sat uneasily on the edge of a sofa, gripping the cushion as his chest constricted with anxiety. He waited.

"I wanted to thank you," Alexius said finally.

"Er." Thank him? Where was the anger? The rage? The blame?

"For saving my son's life. If you hadn't been there… Maker, I don't want to think about what could have happened. Felix is alive because of you. You gave me my son, Fenris. I won't ever forget this."

"I… uh." Though normally not very loquacious, Fenris found himself grasping even more than usual beyond the surprised syllables making their way past his lips.

"There are already whisperings," Alexius continued, "among the others that I'm planning on purchasing you lot from Danarius. That is true. I understand that you have… hm. Affection for your master. But after what happened tonight, I would be honored if you chose to stay with us. Of course I would pay your master your worth."

Fenris paused, mouth slightly open. He couldn't have possibly been hearing correctly. Was Alexius asking him his opinion on the matter? Was he giving him a choice? Not that Danarius would ever allow it, so the point was rather moot.

"If you say no, I will of course let the subject drop. But Florentina is very fond of you, as is Felix. We feel like you could make this your home if you wanted to. Your duties would remain similar to what you've been doing – serving, overseeing the others. But also I think to keep the family safe. I understand if your loyalty to Danarius prevents you from doing so, but I believe you have real potential, Fenris. You could do so much more given the opportunity out from under Danarius's yoke." He took a long sip, draining the glass before setting it aside. "You'll have the weekend to think on it. I'll put in a letter to Danarius on Monday. Will that be sufficient?"

"I… yes. Yes, Master Alexius. That would be… yes." He cleared his throat to hide his confusion.

"Very good. Now… would you send Felix to me? Then the night is yours."

Fenris stood. He was almost to the door when Alexius called his name, and he turned, waiting for Alexius to say, 'Only joking!' or something similar.

"You may keep the mourning band as long as it's appropriate."

Unsure of what to say to _that_ Fenris merely nodded and left. He had a lot to think about.


	10. Chapter 10

"That's right, a thousand."

"For the five of us?"

Fenris frowned, eavesdropping once again. He was not included in the sum, knowing the 'five' to be Namir and the other house slaves Danarius loaned out. It was an exorbitant price. While mathematics wasn't something Fenris understood, he could still count, and knew most slaves averaged a hundred golds a head, thereabouts. He had no idea what he cost, what the lyrium in his skin cost. But it occurred to him that Alexius wasn't giving the others a choice. Either Danarius would allow the purchase or he wouldn't. A business transaction, a deal between magisters for property.

But wasn't that all _he_ was? Property to be bought and sold at will, without any consideration for his own feelings on the matter? It wasn't the first time someone in Alexius's house asked his opinions on something, and somehow he felt it wouldn't be the last. Why his own feelings mattered, that was what confused him. He learned to keep any thoughts to himself unless explicitly asked, and often when Danarius called on him to speak, it was to agree with him, even if he didn't.

And a terrifying thought wormed its way into his mind: Why shouldn't he agree to stay here?

He looked around skittishly, as if someone was lurking just around the corner, someone who could read his mind and punish him for the disobedience. Alina appeared from the kitchen doorway, Fenris straightening at once, trying not to look guilty.

"Oh there you are," she said, handing him a tray of breakfast things. "Mistress has asked for you specifically. She's resting this morning while the others attend the Chantry service."

"Me?"

"Can you handle that? I've got to get the fireplaces cleaned."

Fenris frowned, watching her turn on her heel without waiting for an answer. Carefully carrying the tray upstairs, he wound his way down the corridor toward the master suite. Why would Florentina ask for him? No doubt she heard about Alexius's offer. And she did seem to have a certain fondness for him, though that confused Fenris as well. In truth, one of his reasons for being so eager to return to Danarius was the comfort of routine, of knowing his place. To know what would merit a punishment or a reward. Though if Hadriana was to be a permanent staple, that routine might change. He would have to relearn the things that upset the punishment/reward balance. Just like this house, were he to agree to Alexius's offer.

And there it was again: another errant thought about joining this house, about leaving Danarius and all the things he knew, all that was familiar to him behind. Guilt filled his stomach, settling uncomfortably like a rock weighing him down. Swallowing, he shifted the tray to one hand to knock on the double doors of the master suite, opening it when he heard Florentina's quiet, "Come."

She looked small and pale amidst the puffy comforters and pillows, the bed swallowing her up. Fenris stood awkwardly a moment while she struggled to sit up, then carefully placed the tray over her lap when she waved him in.

"Shut the door, dear boy. I wanted a word."

He did as he was told, standing against them once they were closed. He marveled at how different she looked now compared to her daily appearance, or with the cosmetics she wore during a party. Regardless, she was beautiful, and that she managed to smile at him put him more at ease than anything she could say. It was genuine, not the tight-lipped, false smirk she wore for her husband's associates. It was the smile reserved for family and true friends. Was that how she felt about him? Family?

No. He was being ridiculous. She was exhausted and unguarded, and he shouldn't assume things.

"Gereon told me we have you to thank for Felix's survival."

Fenris blushed and stared at the floor, the rich red carpet beneath his feet. He shifted uncomfortably, and stayed quiet.

"You saved his life. Who knows what that…" She let out an agitated breath. "Maker only knows what would've happened if you hadn't been there. Thank you. Fenris? Look at me."

Fenris looked up, swallowing hard. There were tears in her eyes, and he fought both desires to run away or to her side. "Yes, Mistress."

Her eyes flicked to the black cloth around his arm, and she gestured him over, setting the tray aside on the bed next to her. Fenris took several tentative steps forward, giving her his hand when she reached for it. She tugged him to his knees and reached up, flicking a few strands of his hair from his eyes before cupping his cheek in the same motherly fashion he'd seen her do with Felix.

"You've done us a great service, Fenris. You mustn't feel responsible for what happened to the baby."

He blanched. It was as if she could read his mind, and he hated to be so transparent. But the ache of guilt remained, though it lessened with her soft words.

"Magister Erimond will answer for his insolence." She drew her thumb across his cheek, smiling softly. "Gereon also told me that he asked you to stay with us. I know you hold love for Danarius. If there's one good thing to say about that man, it's that when he inspires loyalty, it runs deep. I also know," she continued, in her same quiet tone, "that he doesn't treat you as well as you deserve."

Fenris frowned. Didn't he? Danarius might be perceived as harsh, but he was a perfectionist and he demanded that of his slaves. Until recently, he had nothing with which to compare his treatment. Alexius thought Danarius's methods distasteful, Felix believed him to be cruel, and Dorian – he paused, thinking of Dorian. If he returned to Danarius, there would be little chance of ever seeing either young man again. And while he didn't believe himself equal to Felix, he did feel welcomed by his mannerisms. In fact, the whole of the Alexius house in general was kinder, softer. He felt less anxious here, despite their odd ways of doing things.

"Have you anything to say?" Florentina asked gently. She let her hand slide from his cheek, squeezing his hand before releasing him.

Fenris stood, fidgeting a little, thinking. What if – and there was a good possibility this would happen – Danarius didn't allow it? What if he found out that Fenris was actually considering leaving him?

"Master Danarius would never allow it," he said finally.

Florentina smiled tiredly. "Let my husband worry about that. Does this mean you'll agree?"

His head swam with the possibilities, with the implications of leaving Danarius, of starting a new life here. And what would happen if he saw Danarius again later, while he was in Alexius's service? Would Danarius be livid? Or worse, would he be happy to have gotten rid of him? What if Fenris, so worried about leaving Danarius's side, so certain his master wouldn't give him up for any amount of coin, was completely wrong? He wasn't sure if he could handle that. But Alexius wouldn't force him to serve Danarius should their paths cross again, would he? He certainly didn't seem the type to shove a lucrative purchase in anyone's face, even Danarius whom he disliked.

"I know Felix would appreciate it if you stayed."

It was the final nail in the coffin.

"Yes," Fenris said. "I'll stay."


	11. Chapter 11

The whispered rumors flew over the next week or two. Fenris did his best to ignore both them and glares he received from Namir, Alina and the others. While a part of him wanted to know what Alexius paid for him, the guilt he felt at leaving Danarius crushed any curiosity. He slept poorly, tossing and turning in his bunk, finally retreating to the floor of the pantry when someone threw their pillow at him in a bid to shut him up. Lying on the floor in the corner, blanket wrapped around him cocoon-like, he thought about his former master.

His earliest memories were serving him, training with those Danarius picked out especially for him, earning favor, traveling to other countries, keeping him safe. He found it hard to believe that Danarius agreed to let him go without a fight, and even harder to believe that Danarius seemed to have no inclination to even say goodbye. But then, why would he? All Fenris ever was to him was a slave. A very expensive, well-trained slave, but a slave nonetheless. He missed the feel of his master's hand on his head, fingers in his hair, the whisper of praise. Would Danarius attempt the lyrium branding with another slave? Train them the way he'd trained Fenris?

The pantry door opened and he winced with the light, too bright to be a candle. A spell wisp fluttered above the newcomer's head, and he wondered which house slave had magic. After all, he hadn't bothered to learn their names, let alone what their abilities were. But as his eyes readjusted, he realized it was Alexius. He started to peruse the shelves, frowning, moving canisters, looking for something. Fenris shifted, the blanket unwrapping, and Alexius turned, the wisp bobbing, casting shadows against the wall.

"Fenris?"

Fenris struggled to his feet, tired and worn from lack of sleep, and stifled a yawn. "Master," he said, leaving off Alexius's name. Now that Alexius owned him, there was no need for that added formality. 

"What are you doing sleeping in the pantry, my boy?" Concern thick in his tone.

"I… er. Caused a disturbance in the sleeping quarters."

"Was there a fight? Namir again?"

"No, Master!" The last thing Fenris needed was for Alexius to discipline Namir. It would make the situation worse by far.

Alexius surveyed him, an appraising eyebrow raised, the wisp's light throwing his concern into sharp relief. "Very well. Help me find the elfroot extract. Florentina's feeling a little ill and I didn't want to disturb the others."

Fenris went immediately to the proper shelf and pulled the bottle. He knew it by shape and color, though he couldn't read the label. It was one of the few he knew on sight; most others he needed to open and inspect before finding the proper one. Luckily Alina kept a well-organized pantry with everything having its own place.

Alexius took it with a quiet word of thanks, reading the label in the wisp's light. "Hm."

Feeling slightly awkward, Fenris cleared his throat. "Did you need anything else, Master?"

The look of concern was back, along with pursed lips. "Yes," Alexius said absently, gaze sliding to the blanket on the floor. "But it'll keep until tomorrow. You'll attend us at breakfast after you have your own. We have a few things to discuss."

"Yes, Master."

Alexius paused in the doorway. "Do return to your bed, Fenris. If the others give you a hard time, tell them I'd like to speak with them."

"Yes, Master." A false promise, but one that Alexius accepted. Fenris waited until he rounded the corner, watching the wisp light disappear, swallowed by darkness. He let out a breath and returned to his corner, wrapping the blanket around himself once more.

He had no desire to return to the sleeping quarters with the others. The cold floor was more welcoming than they could ever be. Curled up, head resting on a cloth sack for a pillow, he tried to get a few hours' sleep before the morning brought him his daily duties.

-

Hiding his yawns, nursing an uncomfortable crick in his shoulder, Fenris followed the others to serve breakfast. A few minutes of stretching would remedy his aches, and he hoped for some privacy soon. Alina handed him a tray of omelets, not quite meeting his eye. Used to this by now and too exhausted to care, he crossed the room to the dining table first to serve Florentina, who was finally feeling well enough to join her husband and son for meals. Perhaps if he'd been paying closer attention to his surroundings, or the ache in his shoulder wasn't so distracting, or if he'd gotten a few more hours of sleep, Fenris would have noticed Namir crossing his path, carrying a jug of juice. His foot caught on Namir's outstretched one, a lowly and petulant trick. Fenris's normally perfect balance disrupted, his fatigue making it impossible to recover, he tripped, and the tray clattered onto the floor.

"Fenris!" Alina hissed, immediately rushing to clean up the omelets. "Mistress, I am so very sorry. Please forgive his clumsiness. Clearly he's not fit to serve." She caught his eye finally, glared at him, and shooed him away when he tried to help.

"They're just eggs," Felix said airily. "Are you all right, Fenris?"

The heat of embarrassment burning in his cheeks, he got to his feet. "I am fine," he muttered, eyes downcast.

Alexius cleared his throat, reaching over to pluck a bit of omelet from Florentina's lap. "Alina when you're finished, take the others downstairs. Fenris," he said, raising his coffee mug.

Fenris hurried to grab the carafe, taking it from a scowling Namir, and filled the mug.

"You'll stay," Alexius continued, taking a sip. "We have some matters of business to discuss."

"Yes, Master," came Fenris's automatic reply. He stepped back, watching the others clean his mess, keeping his expression carefully blank as they threw him dirty looks. Had it been Hadriana, punishment would be imminent. Danarius dining privately, it would have been severe words of disapproval. Publicly? Fenris shuddered to think of the embarrassment his former master would have suffered at his hands. The beatings after… He tried not to think on that. What would Alexius do? Scold him? Most likely. And while words didn't cut as deeply as a whip, disappointment from Alexius was difficult to bear.

Florentina stood first having eaten very little, finishing half her tea. Both Alexius and Felix rose as she did, the latter getting the door for his mother as she excused herself. When the door was shut again, Alexius waved Fenris over and gestured to a chair.

"Do sit."

Fenris hesitated, but sat in the recently vacated chair, hands folded in his lap. Alexius took another sip of coffee and waited until Felix rejoined them.

"I've been thinking," Alexius began, "about the party. How easily you dispatched Erimond's elf. Now, I realize that your markings give you your unique abilities, but you've been trained in all manners of combat, correct?"

"Er. Yes. Yes, Master." Fenris wasn't sure what Alexius was getting at. He'd seen demonstrations of his abilities before. Danarius was always showing him off at parties.

"Felix is very adept at magical combat, but there are techniques that manage to nullify spells, wards and the like. I was thinking that instead of wasting your talents as a servant, you could be his personal trainer."

Fenris looked up, glancing from Alexius to Felix, who smiled encouragingly. "Me?"

"Clearly you weren't taught how to serve, or to cook or to clean," Alexius said.

Fenris scowled, averting his eyes once more.

"It's not a bad thing," Felix entreated. "You were simply trained differently. There aren't many warriors like you in the Imperium. I can wield a staff, but I'm useless with more… conventional weapons. And if you taught me, maybe my father would stop treating me like a child." The words were harsh, but the tone was gentle.

"You _are_ a child, Felix. You are my child. And that's why I'm very much in favor of this. I can't always be there for Felix. He's going to eventually leave and start a family of his own. When that happens, I cannot be there. Maker knows I can't keep him cooped up here forever."

"Though you've tried," Felix sighed exasperatedly.

"Mm. With my luck you'll go following Dorian off on some half-cocked plan that will burn down half the country."

"The country could do with a few upsets."

"Regardless," Alexius said firmly, "I'd feel better knowing Felix can defend himself should he find himself without magic."

Fenris's mind whirled. No more serving. No more having to answer to Alina and the others. To be made to look a fool in the dining room. He'd never taught anyone before, but he remembered his training, the years of hard work he put in to master his craft, and his routine of daily exercises he'd been missing out on. The way his muscles ached after a session, fighting against shades and minor demons summoned by Danarius, the exhaustion from a day of hard work, instead of restless sleep.

"Of course I'll help in any way I can," he found himself saying.

"Excellent," Alexius said, clapping his hands together. "Well, I'll have Alina bring your things upstairs."

"Beg pardon?" Fenris asked, confused.

"I know Danarius kept you in a separate room away from the others. And after Namir's attempt to diminish you during breakfast, I think it best. It may not be as lavish. Sadly, try as we might, I doubt the others will give you the respect you deserve. Felix will show you the room we've picked out, and you can start right after."

Alexius stood, clapping him on the shoulder. He stooped to kiss Felix on the top of his head before leaving the dining room, a spring in his step.

"It's impossible to get a word in edgewise when he gets like that," Felix apologized. "Come." He took one last sip of coffee. "I'll show you your room and we can get started."


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of metal clanging against metal was cathartic to Fenris. Among the personal possessions sent from Danarius's estate was a training broadsword. The one Danarius commissioned specifically for him, a large silverite blade, the hilt fashioned to look like a dragon, presumably remained at Danarius's estate. It didn't matter. Fenris couldn't train Felix with it, the blade sharp enough to cut to the bone and possibly through it. In case one of them slipped up, the dulled broadsword was a much better idea.

"Keep your back straight," Fenris said, pointing the sword. He tapped the back of Felix's legs with the flat of the blade. "Bend at the knee like I showed you."

"Yes, do that," Dorian said, with an air of distraction.

They were in the courtyard of the Alexius estate, a sprawling bit of grass ending in a pond-like pool of water, a patio surrounding it. Dorian lounged there on one of the sofas, white linen trousers and sleeveless tunic a stark contrast to his dark skin. A large sunshade made of purple silk kept the afternoon's rays off him, and he held a book lazily in one hand, half-reading, half-paying attention to their sparring. Fenris hated the days Dorian visited during training. Not that he minded having him there, it was simply that the man was so very… distracting. Felix laughed and tossed a rude hand gesture at Dorian, adjusting his stance before twirling the practice sword, holding it at the ready.

Not distracting to Felix, at least, Fenris thought, bringing his own sword up again. He and Felix were dressed similarly, light cotton clothing, boiled leather jerkins to absorb harder hits. In a few short weeks, Felix improved considerably, Fenris with the bruises to show for it. At first Fenris found it difficult to essentially order around his master's son, but realized that politeness and babying were the fastest ways to getting Felix killed in a real fight. He responded well to firm commands and true praise, another thing Fenris found difficult to dole out. It helped that he was training right alongside Felix, running with him in the mornings before breakfast, choosing exercises to tone the muscles needed for fighting.

"We should move to hand-to-hand. We've an hour before dinner," Felix said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Why your father makes you do such common things," Dorian said, shifting to his stomach, dropping the book on the ground. His fingers dusted the stone patio, cheek pressed to the cushion. "We could go riding in the country. Or maybe into the city proper for a show. You know I've heard that they're doing an exhibit on a new technique of sculpting with melted metals. They heat it up with this inferno spell-"

"Dorian," Felix said, huffing exasperatedly. "If you're bored, I'm sure Father is looking for company. He's in the library."

"And leave you bereft of an audience? Perish the thought! Do go on. At least I'll get a good show out of it when Fenris makes you eat the grass again."

Fenris scowled, embarrassed with the compliment. He'd wrestled in the Provings before. In the melee when you lost your weapon, it was your only defense. While Felix was taller and weighed more, even without the use of his markings, Fenris was stronger. He'd yet to lose to him in anything, though Felix improved daily. It was only a matter time before Fenris was the one pinned.

They removed their leather jerkins, Fenris pulling the half-soaked tunic over his head and tossing it aside as well. He rolled his shoulders as they circled one another, swinging his arms behind and in front, gauging Felix's point of attack. Soon, Felix would misstep or look away, and Fenris would take the opportunity. The longest they'd gone was six minutes in a round, always best two of three. Perhaps today, Felix would take him by surprise.

A glint of sunlight distracted him. He barely glanced over, realizing it was the sun catching on one of the pieces of jewelry Dorian wore, a bracelet or a ring. He was sitting up now, leaning forward, the neck of his tunic hanging low, an elbow resting nonchalantly on his knee. And if Fenris had to put a word to his expression? He looked _hungry_. 

The lapse in concentration cost him dearly. Felix slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Fenris felt the tickle of the grass against his back, and came back to himself in time to wrap a leg around Felix's, flipping them over. They tussled in the yard, grappling for control, Fenris trying to concentrate on the bulk of Felix's weight, the bruising he felt in his ribs. His errant thoughts strayed back to Dorian and he glimpsed him again. Leaning back on an elbow now, smirking lazily.

_Concentrate, fool!_

In two quick moves, Fenris tripped Felix to his knees, then twisted his arm behind his back. Felix's face pressed into the grass, Fenris's weight atop him, he yielded, laughing. Applause behind them, and Fenris scrambled to his feet, brushing grass from his pants. Dorian bent low, gracefully plucking Fenris's tunic from the ground with his index and middle fingers, and offered it to him with a smirk. Fenris snatched it, looking away just as quickly.

Dorian crouched down, patting Felix on the shoulder. "I think that makes the score twenty-eight to zero. I'd say you're improving…"

"Yes, yes, have your laughs," Felix said with an air of faux bitterness.

"Oh, I am," Dorian assured him. "I think – HEY!"

Felix moved swiftly, swinging Dorian into an over-the-shoulders carry. Dorian flailed, protesting loudly, but Felix ignored him, sprinting the short distance to the pool, and tossed him in. Fenris caught a few seconds of loud cursing before the splash and tried not to laugh. Felix rounded on him at once.

"You're next!"

Fenris's eyes widened as Felix gave chase. He sprinted across the lawn, knowing he had the upper hand until his markings flared. A static cage surrounded him, and a second later, flailing in much the same way Dorian had, he found himself hovering above the pool.

"No!"

He hit the water, cool and refreshing, but couldn't stop the fear from taking over. He'd never learned how to swim, and never bothered informing them. Why would he? He never had need to learn. He'd waded in Rialto Bay, splashed along the beaches of Seheron, but when his feet couldn't find ground, the panic set in. He lost what little breath he had, opening his mouth instinctively to get another, a rush of water flooding his senses.

Suddenly two hands grabbed him, pulling him up, and he sputtered, gasping for air. A warm body behind his, arms around his waist, hot breath against his ear.

"Calm down, Fenris. I've got you. Maker! Stop squirming!"

Fenris forced himself to relax, taking deep, ragged breaths as Dorian swam him to the patio. Felix hauled him out, apologizing profusely, wrapping a towel around his shoulders.

"Oh for Andraste's sake, Felix, he's fine. I swear, you're so much like your father. Stop fussing."

"I… I'm fine," Fenris breathed, one hand in the grass, the solid earth beneath him.

"Maker's breath, Fenris," Felix said, pushing Fenris's sopping hair from his face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you couldn't swim."

A splash of water behind him, and Fenris saw Dorian pulling himself up and out of the pool. He peeled off his tunic and pants, and Fenris looked away as he picked up a towel to wrap around his waist.

"It… was not something my former master required of me."

Felix helped him to his feet. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." He took the towel and started drying him off.

"I'm fine," Fenris repeated, unnerved by the overt show of concern. But it wasn't a show. Felix's brow knitted, the lines of anxiety deep on his face. He took another breath and reached up, gripping Felix's hands to stop him. "Truly. Master Dorian saved me-"

"Yes, I was rather heroic, wasn't I?" Instead of the casual tone or light sarcasm, Fenris thought he heard something else. Annoyance?

A glance at Dorian confirmed he was right. Arms crossed over his chest, mustache twitching as his lips quirked into a scowl, Dorian was definitely irked. Felix sensed it as well. He gave Fenris one last gentle pat.

"Go up to the house. If Alina gives you a hard time about dripping on the carpet, you tell her to talk to me."

"Yes, Master," Fenris said quickly. He crossed the courtyard, picking up his tunic and broadsword, slipping into the back foyer. The glass door wasn't quite closed when he heard raised voices.

"Honestly, showing such concern over a slave, Felix, what will people think?"

"At least I'm not ogling him like a piece of fresh meat!"

"How dare you accuse-"

Fenris shut the door quickly and hurried away. The elation he felt earlier disappeared instantly, replaced by a horrible feeling of guilt. Though he'd only been with the family a few months, he'd never seen Dorian and Felix like that. They would argue, hotly debate laws either in effect or yet to pass, discuss wild magical theories. Dorian was always arrogant, Felix always exasperated, but in the end they would part with a handshake and a laugh. This was a definite shift in their relationship, and not one Fenris thought he could handle. Especially if he was the cause.


	13. Chapter 13

There was no larger understatement than to say that the silence in the drawing room was uncomfortable. Fenris missed dinner, but heard the whispers of the others when he skulked downstairs to fetch a bottle of brandy. Dorian and Felix barely spoke to one another, though both were all too happy to keep the conversation up with Alexius. A strained sort of air surrounded the entire meal and that carried into the after dinner nightcap. Alexius retired early with a warning that whatever was wrong needed to be resolved 'sooner than later.'

Fenris wasn't sure what he was doing there, though he hadn't been dismissed or excused, and pouring drinks was something he usually still enjoyed, even with his new training duties. Tonight though, he wished Felix simply sent him away. He couldn't handle the stony silence in which the two sat, Dorian staring absently at the fire, Felix idly flipping the pages of a book. Neither man asked for a drink, leaving Fenris awkwardly standing by the sideboard table.

"Are you going to apologize?" Dorian asked, not taking his eyes from the fire.

Felix glanced up, scoffed, and looked back down at his book.

Dorian mimicked the sound. "Really? That's all you've got to say?"

Felix snapped the book shut and sighed.

"I can go," Fenris said quickly, feeling bold at speaking out of turn. "If… if it pleases you, Master."

Felix waved a hand. "No. But drinks, I think."

"Double mine," Dorian said. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

Fenris hurried to comply, handing the snifters to either man, then retreated to his place.

"Dorian…" Felix sighed and took a sip of brandy. "You know that I dislike fighting with you."

Dorian shrugged irritably, pulling one leg up, crossing his ankle over a knee. "I still stand by what I say."

"And would you say it again here? Now?" Felix asked. "In front of Fenris?"

Dorian faltered, eyes flicking from Fenris to Felix and down to his drink. He took a large sip, clearing his throat. "Perhaps, I-"

"I knew you wouldn't. Because you don't really feel that way. You're not callous, Dorian. As much as you like putting on airs, you care more than you'd like to admit. About everything."

Fenris frowned, extremely confused. He'd caught only a brief snatch of their earlier argument, and wondered what Dorian said that Felix considered so reprehensible.

"Go on," Felix said. And when Dorian remained silent, he continued. "You said, 'Why bother with apologies-'"

"Felix!" Dorian snapped, looking hurriedly at Fenris once more before leaning forward to wave a hand at Felix in a bid to shut him up.

"'You didn't know he couldn't swim. Besides, who cares about his feelings-'"

Suddenly Fenris wasn't sure he wanted to hear the rest, but he was stuck, and no amount of Dorian's shushing was going to stop Felix.

"'He's only a slave'."

It shouldn't have hurt. He _was_ only a slave. Danarius never cared about his feelings. He never worried about offending Fenris, forcing him to do things Fenris found distasteful. Serving Hadriana, performing like a trained animal for guests. The further removed he was from that life, the more he realized how brainwashed he'd been. Alexius's kindness, Florentina's softness, Felix's friendship… it was a dangerous path he walked, familiarizing himself with them. He should have stayed with Danarius where these muddy waters were crystal clear. He was a slave.

But Dorian looked embarrassed, almost appalled that such a thing could come out of his own mouth. He hid his discomfort with another sip of brandy.

Felix wasn't about to let him off, however. "So you won't say it here in front of Fenris. I'm surprised, Dorian. Usually you don't care if people know what you think of them. And you're never short an opinion. I've heard you tell off various types, from lowly apprentices to your father's associates. Even grandmother once when she said mother was getting fat."

"Your grandmother's wit is as dull as those blades you practice with," Dorian said. "It was a pleasure to talk circles around that woman."

"And yet you won't repeat yourself."

Dorian pursed his lips, looking cowed. Sighing, he looked up at Fenris. "I did say that."

Fenris flinched, as if the admission was a strike to the gut.

"But I did not mean it. And I apologize. Felix often has to point out when I'm being an ass which happens more often than I'd like to admit."

Felix snorted. "If only you'd remember that."

"Will you forgive my callousness?" Dorian asked, turning his attention back to Fenris.

"I… er… Yes," Fenris finished, trying not to fidget.

Felix smiled. "Glad we've gotten that out of the way. Fenris, you can go. I'll see you in the morning for our run."

Fenris nodded, then bowed, and let himself out. A niggling curiosity pulled at the back of his mind and he wrestled with a moral dilemma for a minute. Deciding he could deal with whatever punishment should he get caught, he slipped down the hall and into one of the many hidden passages in the walls. This one ended right behind a large painting next to the fireplace. Crouching low, he peered through the thin canvas. Felix paced the room slowly, Dorian sitting back, arm flung over the back of the couch, one foot propped against the coffee table.

"I still think you owe me an apology for what _you_ said," Dorian sniffed petulantly.

"And what would that be?"

"That I ogle him like a piece of meat. I do not."

"You do, Dorian," Felix insisted.

Dorian huffed, taking a sip of brandy. "Well. You can't say that you blame me. He's… Hm."

Felix rolled his eyes, leaving Fenris confused. Felix wouldn't lie about something like this, not even to get a rise out of Dorian. And the way they were talking, there was truth to the accusation. Did Dorian find him attractive? It wouldn't be the first time. He was used to being looked at, talked about, and some humans found themselves naturally attracted to elves. Masters often took their favorite slaves to bed, but Dorian always struck him as someone vehemently against that.

"…Are you going to tell your father?" Felix asked gently.

Dorian paused, contemplated his glass, and downed it, coughing a bit. He thanked Felix for the refill and took a careful sip. "He'll need to know eventually, I suppose," he said darkly.

Fenris shifted carefully to his knees, turning so he could hear more clearly.

Felix sat next to him, hand on his shoulder. "I could be there when you tell him. Or father-"

Dorian covered Felix's hand with his own, smiling sadly. "No. It's something I need to tell him on my own. Maker only knows how he'll react. No. Wait. I know exactly how he'll react. He'll tell me to forget it. That I'm marrying what's-her-face and there'll be no more talk about it." He leaned forward, placing his glass on a coaster on the coffee table before he started to pace, stopping to lean against the mantle.

Fenris held his breath, able to see Dorian's pained expression clearly through the canvas as he spoke to the fire.

"I can't do it, Felix. I can't pretend. I don't have it in me to make some poor girl miserable for the rest of her life. To force myself to… to sire an heir. And you know what Father will say?" he asked, glancing back briefly before turning to the fire once more. "He'll give his permission for me to carry on, so long as I do it discreetly. To hide myself behind a fake smile the way he does with Mother. And he hasn't even bothered taking a mistress. That I know of anyway," Dorian added bitterly. He sighed, closing his eyes. "He's changed so much in the last few years. And I know it's because of me. Because I'm a disappointment. It was never like this before they started with the courtship galas."

"Dorian-"

"Don't," Dorian whispered. "Perhaps if I'd been born different, or-"

"Stop," Felix ordered, coming to stand behind him.

Fenris watched Felix slowly coax Dorian around, into his embrace, and held him tightly. Dorian sighed heavily, and Fenris couldn't tell if he was crying. Feeling extremely uncomfortable now having intruded on such a private moment, he retreated quietly down the hidden passage toward his room. From the context of the conversation, it was simple to figure out the reason for Dorian's upset. And Fenris knew enough about the upper echelons of Tevinter society to realize what a terrible position Dorian was in.

He changed into pajamas, blowing out the single candle one of the others lit for him, and crawled into bed. The room was modest, roughly the same size he'd had with Danarius, though furnished much more lavishly than he was used to. However, no amount of thick blankets or puffy pillows would make it easy for him to sleep tonight.


	14. Chapter 14

When Felix invited him to the library, Fenris felt unsure. And when he saw the pile of books, parchment, ink and quill, the unease turned to something close to terror.

"You look as if you're about to run," Felix teased gently. "Come. Sit."

Fenris eased into the chair next to him, looking at the cover of one of the books on the table. A dragon breathing fire onto a knight who blocked it with his shield. Fenris frowned; with that technique, the knight would be roasted in a second. The title started with the word, "The" but beyond that, he couldn't decipher. Felix tapped it.

"This is the book that I started with when Father taught me to read. By the time I took proper lessons, I was far ahead of everyone else."

Boasting was so unlike Felix that Fenris found himself slightly taken aback. Dorian was more apt to talk about his accomplishments, often with grand embellishments. This was truly something Felix was proud of.

"And now I'm going to use it to teach you."

"Uh… What?" Perhaps it was the absurdity of the statement that bred the familiarity in his question. Whatever it was, Felix didn't seem to pay the slip up much attention, nor did he punish Fenris for any perceived impudence.

"I'm going to teach you to read. And write, if you're interested."

The only slaves he knew that could read and write served as scribes. Alexius paid a man from the city to record important meetings, but he answered his own correspondence. Felix, as far as Fenris knew, did the same. Would they add to his duties once he learned how to read and write?

"Of course, we don't have to," Felix said, slightly unsure.

"No! I want to." The thought of learning how to read, to be able to delve into the history of Thedas without depending on anyone's bias, to read sweeping stories of adventure on his own, he couldn't pass that up, no matter how odd it all seemed. "It's… why?"

"A fair trade," Felix explained, uncapping the inkpot. He started to write. "We'll start with the alphabet."

"A fair trade?"

"Mm. You've been teaching me sword work and how to defend myself without magic, so I'll teach you how to read."

"That… it's…" Gratitude overwhelmed him and he couldn't finish his sentence.

Felix nudged him gently. "Father likes keeping an educated house. I daresay you didn't even have the opportunity before."

"No, I-"

The door to the library burst open, Dorian entered, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Felix! So this is where you've been hiding." He set the glasses on the table and poured a generous measure into both.

"Dorian, it's not even noon."

"Then let Fenris drink it, you teetolling stick-in-the-mud. Fenris, you'll celebrate with me, right?"

"And what are we celebrating?" Felix asked. "Hey!" He reached for the book Dorian grabbed.

Fenris realized suddenly that Dorian was already drunk.

"'The Knight's Heroic and Other Adventures'? Oh, Felix, what drivel are you reading our friend?" Dorian ignored the glasses and took a swig directly from the bottle.

Fenris marveled at his ability to look completely put together, not a hair out of place, even when in this state.

"I was going to teach him how to read before you decided to interrupt us with what I can only assume is a pity party." Felix stood, picking up both glasses of wine, strode to the open window, and emptied them into the bushes. "Fenris, I'm sorry. Would you mind-"

"No, no. Fenris can stay. He can watch. It'll be amusing for him. At least someone wanted _him_."

"Dorian-"

"No. Noooo. Ah ah," Dorian interrupted, slurring a bit. He sat on the edge of another table, glancing at the book in his hand as if seeing it for the first time. "'Annalise, my love, my light. I hereby declare that I shall slay the dragon and win thine fair hand' –" He cut off, making a face, and took another swig from the bottle. "A finer author the world has never known." He tossed the book aside with a loud _thump_. "It's true you know," Dorian continued, pulling himself onto the table, boots on a chair. He leaned forward, looking at Fenris. "To make Danarius agree to let you go? Well you see, it's a web of politics and lies and favors. Erimond was in deep, deep trouble for the stunt he pulled at the party where you saved Felix's life."

Fenris looked at Felix who pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Apparently he was going to let Dorian ramble. Fenris could interrupt him, suggest he sleep off the alcohol, recommend a tonic for the nausea. But curiosity won out.

"You see it turns out that Danarius that fucking bastard owed Erimond a favor for something or another."

Fenris found this difficult to believe. Then again, Erimond, eccentric as he was, employed a spot rather high up in the Magisterium. It was possible that Danarius asked for a favor to be repaid at a later date. No doubt he believed Erimond would never cash in.

"So since Erimond was facing an interrogation," Dorian said, gesturing with the wine bottle, "he went to Danarius. Told him that he had to let you go."

"That… was it?" Fenris asked.

Dorian laughed uproariously, as if Fenris just told the best joke he'd ever heard. He was nearly in tears by the time he stopped. "Oh. No, far from it. Hm. Felix, what did your father give up?"

"Dorian," Felix said through gritted teeth.

Dorian began counting on his fingers. "A thousand royals from his personal coffers. Two clipper ships, a share of a plantation somewhere out east and what was the last? Felix, what was it?"

"The winter cottage on Seheron and associated lands," Felix answered grudgingly.

"Not that your family ever went there in the winter. Or any season," Dorian smirked, sipping from the bottle. He stood up on the chair, then stepped down, offering the bottle to Fenris. "You, my friend, are worth a lot to this family. They clearly like you. And I like you as well. I think that you-"

"Dorian!" Felix snapped, snatching the bottle from him. "What is going on?"

"I'm getting married! Or so Father thinks. I'm having a time coming up with a way to sabotage this one."

"Ah," Felix said, looking at the bottle, turning it in his hand. He put it down, clapped Dorian on the shoulder. "I see. Fenris, we'll pick this up in an hour."

"Yes, of course," Fenris said, bewildered.

"Come, Dorian. Let's talk to my father. After you've had something to soak up that wine. He'll have a solution."

"That's what I love about your family, Felix. So helpful. Always helping. Even Fenris. He's family, too."

"Indeed," Felix said, shutting the door behind him as they left.

Fenris picked up the bottle, sniffed, and took a sip. It had a strong, fruity flavor that he liked at once, and glanced at the label. Two apples in the foreground, an orchard in the back. Above, a skilled hand wrote the name of the wine which he couldn't read. He took another sip, staring thoughtfully at the papers laid out on the table. A thousand royals Dorian said. Pocket change for powerful magisters, and yet he'd fetched the same price in gold as the others combined. Not to mention the rest of the items Dorian listed. Felix would have corrected him if he was wrong in his drunken rambling, or at least told Fenris not to pay it any mind.

"I am worth that," Fenris whispered to the empty room.

It seemed Danarius hadn't had much of a choice with Erimond calling in a favor, but that Alexius was willing to give up so much simply to keep him… He felt accepted. Warm. Though that could have been the wine. And now Felix wanted to teach him to read. He might still be a slave, but now? He felt like family.


	15. Chapter 15

"Are you packed for the trip tomorrow?" Alexius asked, glancing up at Fenris over his reading glasses.

Fenris topped off his coffee before replacing the carafe. "Yes, Master."

Alexius waved a hand. "Fenris, please. I've told you repeatedly that when we're alone, such formalities are not required." He shook his head and wrote a few more sentences before taking up his coffee. "Out of seven Circles, only three have written back." He sipped, then sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Fenris thought he looked weary; more than usual. The Magisterium was discussing the unrest in the south, specifically the city-state of Kirkwall. Whispered rumors of an Exalted March peppered the courts and the parties, and of course everyone was trying to decide how this would benefit them specifically. Kirkwall, being one of the largest cities in the Free Marches, was the center for trade. Its prominent position in the Imperium's history did not diminish with Tevinter's defeat, and not more than a few magisters had a vested interest in the city's future. As it stood though, many were simply waiting to see what the Orlesian Chantry planned to do about it.

While Alexius was not exempt from the goings on in the Free Marches, his attention remained focused on his theoretical time manipulation magic. Creating distortions, being able to bend time to his will, would make Alexius one of the most powerful men in all Thedas. While he and Dorian often spoke late into the night about the magical requirements for such a thing, Fenris found it slightly over his head. The concept of something so intangible suddenly becoming real was unnerving, much like traversing the Fade in his dreams. Danarius forced him into the Fade once in a ritual. It took Fenris two days after to determine what was real and what was inside his head, and not something he wished to repeat. Dreams were confusing enough for him.

"First Enchanter Rivella thanks me for my interest in such a subject. She's sent along three books, all of which have been moderately useless," Alexius continued. "Nevertheless, the gesture was appreciated. I know the Rivaini Circle is a bit more lax when it comes to the barbaric treatment of mages elsewhere. More of a prison," he grumbled, frowning at his coffee before taking a sip.

It was likely one of the only things on which Alexius and Danarius might have found common ground. The treatment of their fellow mages in other parts of Thedas seemed a bit of a fairy story for Fenris. Locked up in Circles like they were prisoners, held captive by the Chant of Light's ever prevalent declaration of how magic was meant to serve man but not rule over him. The proposed solution to the southern mages' plight differed vastly depending on to whom you spoke, though. Danarius, should he have been in charge, would press for violent revolution. Alexius favored a more gentle temperament. However, both agreed that their southern brethren deserved better than what they had. 

Fenris wasn't sure what to think. While his stay with Alexius was pleasant – almost downright enjoyable – he realized that his fellow slaves didn't all benefit from benevolent masters. Those still in Danarius's employ for example were likely dealing with Hadriana and her violent mood swings and vindictive punishments. Was the answer to free all the slaves? What if some enjoyed being slaves? But freed slaves weren't a threat like free mages would be. If free mages spread through Thedas once more, the Chantry surely would organize another Exalted March, like it had in Andraste's time. He wasn't sure that would benefit anyone. Was it better to be free and in the path of danger, or kept a slave and safe? Such philosophy was difficult to think about now. With Danarius, he didn't know any better, thought that slaves who vied for freedom were selfish and foolish. Now, being in Alexius's house, he began to see why slaves would want to leave unfair masters, even if it meant an uncertainty for the future. Perhaps the southern mages experienced the same?

"First Enchanter Irving from Kinloch thanked me for my interest but declined to discuss the matter further. Unsurprising, considering what their Circle's been through."

"Hm?" Fenris intoned before he quickly looked down, the conditioned response of chastisement overcoming him at once.

"I don't suspect you would have heard," Alexius said, almost apologetically as he shuffled papers. "Experimental magic in their tower which led to abominations and quite a few deaths. All preventable, had the research materials been readily available instead of locked away like something naughty and forbidden. Simply asking about certain magic down there is a crime worthy of some medieval punishment. You'd think knowledge was the antithesis of growth and understanding. Then again," he said with a slight nod and a shrug, "the way their Chantry operates, I wouldn't be surprised if that was addendum in the Chant." He let out a noise that was half-laugh, half-scoff, and finished his coffee. "No, thank you," he said, holding up a hand as Fenris approached to refill it. "I'll need an early night if I'm to see you all off in the morning."

The last reply Alexius received came from Grand Enchanter Briaus out of the Hossberg Circle in the Anderfels. Fenris knew little about him, though recalled Danarius mentioning the name when the College of Magi elected him. 'A competent mind for magic, if not for politics,' was the assessment. Briaus saw no issue with regularly communicating with Tevinter mages regarding the latest advancements in magical technique. Every few years when the Grand Enchanter position changed hands, so too did the controversy surrounding the Imperium and its Circles. Briaus invited Alexius to stay at the Hossberg Circle to discuss notes and implied that he had a few artifacts he'd be willing to lend, but did not trust to simple couriers. Unfortunately Alexius was unable to get away from his duties in the senate, and was sending Felix and Florentina in his stead. He instructed Fenris to go with them, and Fenris was proud to take up the task.

"I highly doubt you'll run into any trouble," Alexius said, standing and stretching. He stacked his papers neatly and pushed in his chair, gesturing toward the door, leading the way into the hall. "The carriage will be marked appropriately. Bandits rarely attack along the highway if it's not a caravan. They'd be mad to interfere with simple travelers. And if they do… well. They'll get a surprise when they meet you, won't they?"

Fenris tried to hide the pleased smile that quirked his lips, but found it difficult. Alexius laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately before bidding him a good night and headed opposite down the hall. Proud of himself for his master's praise, Fenris went to bed as well, eager for the next morning.


	16. Chapter 16

The chilly grey morning set the perfect backdrop for the almost melancholic goodbyes. Alexius hugged his son tightly before turning to Florentina. Fenris felt the warmth in his cheeks as he blushed, watching as he kissed her goodbye, tender and loving. She cupped his face and kissed him again and once more before Felix shouted from the carriage that they really should be going. Alexius laughed, took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and finally let her go. Fenris stood a bit taller when Alexius finally looked at him.

"Take care of them," he said.

"Yes, I will," Fenris promised, fighting to keep from retorting with his canned, 'Yes, Master.'

Alexius gestured toward Namir, who stood a few feet away, holding a long thin package wrapped in cloth. "This is for you." He took the package from Namir and handed it to Fenris.

Confused, frowning slightly, Fenris unwrapped it, gaping when he saw what it contained. Alexius helped him unsheathe the two handed greatsword with its black leather wrapped handle. Several runes were inlaid on the onyx hilt, the silverite blade gleaming even in the sunless morning. He peered carefully at the inscription in the blade, lips moving to sound out the words.

"'Courage, above all, is the warrior's greatest virtue'," Alexius read for him. "It's to remind you."

"Remind me?" Fenris asked, sheathing it reverently, running his fingers over the leather grip.

"It takes courage to remember that you have the ability to make your own choices. And with every choice, you grow stronger."

Fenris caught Namir's eye from behind Alexius. He looked furious. Jealous, Fenris presumed, of the gift and the special treatment. "Thank you, Master," Fenris said, pleased when Alexius clapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward the carriage.

They waited only a moment longer while Alexius allowed Alina, who'd be attending Florentina on the trip, to say her farewells to Namir. The door shut and latched, and the driver snapped his whip over the horses. Felix waved to his father until Alexius was just a spot in the distance, and then settled back on the bench next to Fenris. Large and comfortable, the coach befitted a family of their status. Alina sat quietly next to Florentina, removing several skeins of yarn and knitting needles. She handed a set to Florentina and took up her own.

"It's been ages since I've been to the Anderfels," Felix said. "Father took me when I was young."

Fenris realized he was speaking for his benefit, and not to his mother. "I've never been."

"There are a few things worth seeing. The Circle at Hossberg. Weisshaupt is impressive, set on an enormous rocky butte. The architecture is unlike anything else I've seen. And you should see the giant statue of Andraste at least once in your life."

Florentina smiled fondly at him from over her knitting. Fenris caught Alina's eye, the slight frown touching her lips before she ducked her head. He wondered if she was jealous as well. Perhaps of the attention from Felix? Despite her relationship with Namir, it was a poorly kept secret that she was slightly enamored with the young master.

"Where else in Thedas have you traveled?" Fenris asked politely, trying not to smirk as Alina glanced up at him once more.

"We were in Starkhaven just a year ago. The Free Marches are… certainly different," Felix laughed. "Antiva just last summer, touring their chantries. Gorgeous buildings. The stained glass."

"Your father enjoyed that tour," Florentina remarked. "Insisted on having those paintings commissioned."

"I thought you liked those," Felix said with a grin.

"I do. I'm just not sure why he needed a dozen of them."

Fenris found himself chuckling with Felix. They fell into casual conversation, Felix detailing his travels of northern Thedas, the south being rather unreceptive to free mages. In turn, Fenris described his own experiences, which while containing some painful memories of Danarius, were also varied. He pointedly did not mention his former master as he spoke about sailing in Rialto Bay, wading in the warm tide pools, visiting the countryside, the vineyards and plantations. To anyone who hadn't known his history, it would have sounded as if he'd traveled alone to do all those things.

"We don't visit Seheron," Felix mused. "Father says there's not much reason for it, with the Qunari and all."

"The cities are unlike the ones in the rest of Tevinter. And most of the land is covered in mountainous jungles. The island itself is fraught with rumors of the natives," Fenris said, trying to recall the tales. "Fog Warriors, fearsome fighters that attack silently through a blinding mist."

Felix's eyes widened with interest. "Have you seen them?"

"I don't believe anyone's seen them," Fenris said. "That's the point. But no, I've never been present during an attack. We were in Alam, mostly. Tales filtered down from the northern cities, where arrogant magisters believe the Qunari would never attack _them_. They lose their slaves, but no bodies are ever found. It's rumored that the slaves are assimilated into the natives' culture."

"I wouldn't mind seeing something like that," Felix admitted.

"Careful," Florentina warned. "Your father hears you say that and you'll never leave the estate again."

"Hmph. Father needs to realize I'm no longer six years old."

Fenris ducked his head, smiling. He listened to their banter, agreeing with both of them. Alexius was more a mother hen when it came to his family, though Fenris could hardly blame him. He'd never known what it felt like to have a family, at least until now. The thought of losing them terrified him in a way that walking away from Danarius hadn't. The idea of the unknown, the fear of leaving his former master, paled in comparison to the thought of losing these three.

_And Dorian._

He turned to stare out the carriage window, not wanting to accidentally betray his thoughts through facial expression. He hadn't thought of Dorian, of all that transpired between them, for some time. He came to the Alexius estate with less frequency lately, though Fenris never asked after him, not wanting to overstep his bounds. His feelings for Dorian were complicated enough, and part of him was glad he'd been staying away. It wasn't a good idea to entertain even the briefest of fantasies when it came to this situation. He'd overheard stories from other slaves, ones who'd come to Danarius's employ due to one scandal or another involving this sort of a thing.

And despite the fact that Dorian seemed to be, at the very least, physically attracted to him, it wasn't as if they could ever indulge. Even if Dorian would consider lowering himself to being with a slave. Fenris felt his muscles tense, fists clenching unconsciously. Despite his treatment by the family, the feeling of welcome, of being able to state an opinion without backlash and punishment, he was still a slave. This… this was something he'd feared. Blurring the lines between what was appropriate behavior and what wasn't. They couldn't stop his thoughts, but sometimes he wished they could.

He would simply have to pay more attention to the stray daydreams, to how he acted when Dorian was near. With any luck, this trip away from the city would clear his head and upon their return he could take up his duties of serving and training Felix in earnest without the distraction.

"All right, Fenris?"

"Hm? Apologies," he said at once, turning back to Felix. "I… was lost in thought."

"It's fine," Felix assured him, reaching into the case under the seat. "Here. I brought these for you."

Fenris watched him pull a slim book and a lumpy bag from his case. Taking the former, he recognized the cover and the title; the book of fairy tales he was learning from. The bag contained several apples.

"Would you like one, Alina?" Felix asked.

"No thank you, Master," Alina said promptly.

Fenris did not miss the look she gave him. He ignored it, thanking Felix as he took one for himself, and opened the book to read.


	17. Chapter 17

Travel along the Imperial Highway was swift and secure. The further south they ventured, the less populous the road became, and turning from the main road resulted in even fewer carts and carriages. They stopped late in the evening at a tavern to rest, picking up early in the morning after the horses were changed out. Conversation revolved around the accommodations once they reached Hossberg, whether they'd be staying in the Circle or elsewhere. Felix stated that under no certain circumstances was he comfortable with the idea of being 'watched over' by templars while he slept, and Florentina agreed. This spurred a heated discussion around the Orlesian Chantry's treatment of their mage brethren.

Fenris admitted grudgingly that the thought of seeing a Circle outside Tevinter intrigued him. He heard them described as prisons, and wondered why the mages allowed themselves to be locked up. Had the idea of it ever been proposed in the Imperium, that person would be lynched immediately. However, Fenris thought that some mages did deserve it. Mages like Danarius and the company he kept. If the magisters of Tevinter were more like Alexius, he would have found the entire idea completely distasteful. Having seeing both sides though, he guessed it was for the best. Better they all remain under guarded watch than risk them turning out like Danarius.

In the late afternoon the wind picked up and the carriage slowed considerably, sand and debris making it difficult to continue at any speed. Pebbles clacked against the glass windows, threatening to crack them. The driver stopped to inform Florentina of the setback.

"The roads are covered in sand, my lady!" he shouted over the howling wind. He held his coat over his head, wincing.

"Do you have cover?" Florentina asked. "And the horses?"

"I saw an outcropping a little ways back. We might lose a day."

"Better to lose a day than a horse," Felix said. "Do it."

"Very good, my lord!"

Fenris pressed a hand against the window, shifting to look out from a different angle, but it didn't matter. The reddish sand created a blanket of obstruction, and he wondered how the driver managed to turn the carriage around. They stopped roughly half an hour later, three of their four sides sheltered by a rock face. The driver unhitched the horses, leading them further into the shallow cave, away from the storm.

"No telling how long this is going to take," the driver admitted. "I'll stay with the horses. You sit tight, my lady. We'll move on when we can. Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you. Are you sure you don't want to come into the carriage?" Florentina asked, concerned. "There's plenty of room."

"No ma'am. Best stay with the horses just in case they get spooked. I'll check back in hour."

They watched him retreat into the darkness.

"I suppose it can't be helped," Florentina sighed. "Such a dreadful climate."

"We can't be too far from Hossberg now," Felix ventured. "Fenris and I could go-"

Florentina shook her head. "No. You'll stay here."

Felix frowned. "I can keep us shielded from the storm-"

"No," Florentina said, dropping her knitting to her lap as she looked at him incredulously. "We're going to stay here where it's safe. I suggest you find something to do to keep yourself occupied. It may be a few hours."

Felix waited until she took up her knitting before looking sidelong at Fenris. He mimed speaking, clearly mocking his mother, and winked. Fenris smirked before turning away to hide his amusement. The storm outside appeared only to increase, and he turned his attention back to his book for the time being.

-

The hour passed slowly, the wind outside howling, the sand skittering over the roof and across the doors of the carriage. Fenris wondered if they were in danger of being buried, but despite the near gale-force winds, the rock cave kept them protected. The sand piled high on his side, which faced the opening of the cave, and no doubt he would have to dig quite a bit to get them out, though at least Felix's side remained unobstructed.

"He should be checking back by now," Felix said, face pressed to the window, hands cupped around his eyes to see better. "Do you think the horses are all right?"

"He's a professional," Florentina assured him. "You're just like your father, worrying over nothing."

"Hmph."

Fenris leaned toward Felix, his elven eyes more suited to the darkness. A dark shape moved just within his field of view. "There, I think."

"Where?" Felix asked. "I don't see-"

_THUD._

Startled, they all looked up toward the ceiling of the carriage, the source of the noise.

Felix licked his lips nervously. "What was-"

Another thud, against the window. Alina screamed in surprise. It was the driver, face bloodied, throat torn open, mouth gaping. Feebly he smacked a hand against the glass, and slowly slid down out of view, leaving behind a scarlet handprint.

"What in the Maker's name-" Felix started, but cut off as the carriage rocked from side to side.

Alina screamed again, thrown to the floor. Fenris braced himself for the fall as the carriage flipped first to its side, pitching him on top of Felix, then again. The floor was now the ceiling, and their belongings cluttered the bottom of the carriage in a heap of confusion. Someone's case opened, spilling clothing and other effects, making it difficult for Fenris to regain his footing. He grappled in the dark and found what he was looking for: the sword Alexius gave him. All was quiet for a moment, whatever attacked them either retreating or – and this was more likely – gearing up for another attack.

"Is everyone all right?" he asked, taking charge of the situation. His heart thudded wildly in his chest and he swallowed thickly. What kind of bandits would slit the driver's throat like that? Or was it some sort of animal?

"Yes," came Florentina's hushed whisper. "Alina's got a bit of a bump but she's fine."

"I'm all right," Felix assured him. "What do you think's out there?"

"I'm not sure," Fenris muttered. And that bothered him. "I'm going out."

"I'll come with you," Felix said at once.

Fenris glanced back, peering through the dark. Florentina was backed into a corner, holding Alina in her arms. Alina was shivering, clearly terrified. She would be of no use, and Fenris found himself wishing for Namir's company instead. At least he knew how to fight.

"You should stay with them," Fenris said. "In case-"

"We'll be fine," Florentina assured him.

Fenris felt the air thicken, the magic coalesce, his markings thrumming dully as Florentina cast a shield around herself and Alina, and he realized he couldn't recall ever having seen her use her magic before now. He felt slightly more at ease, knowing he wouldn't be leaving them completely without protection. Felix reached out and found his mother's hand, kissed her knuckles.

"Stay safe," she said.

"I will," he promised.

Fenris tried the handle, but the impact of the driver's body hitting it must have dented the latch. The realization did not comfort him. Leaning back, one hand pressed against the wall for leverage, he kicked out the glass. Wriggling through the hole, he slid from the carriage, pulling his sword out before taking Felix by the wrist and hauling him through as well. All around them was blackness, the front of the cave piled high with sand. Fenris wondered if they could dig themselves out now, wondered how blocked in they were. Felix's soft cursing drew his attention back to the carriage. He was crouched down, looking at the body of the driver.

"Animal?" Fenris ventured. He drew his blade, slinging the empty sheathe over his shoulder, across his back.

"Sword. Or dagger, maybe," Felix said. "It's fairly clean. I think-"

"Watch out!" Fenris cried as a shape emerged from the darkness, vaulting off the carriage.

Felix turned in time, a fireball bursting from his palm, lighting up the cave briefly as it caught his attacker in the chest and burned out. The black shape dropped to the ground as Felix scrambled back, grabbing Fenris by the arm.

"Venhedis," Fenris hissed, swallowing down a rising bubble of fear.

"What? What is it?" Felix asked.

"Darkspawn."


	18. Chapter 18

What their driver originally thought to be a simple outcropping or shallow cave appeared to be an ancient entrance to the Deep Roads. They were sitting on top of a very active, very angry hornet's nest. Just a few hundred feet back from the mouth of the cave, they found the horses, or more accurately what was left of them. Fenris sneered distastefully as he toed the torn flank, the sand soaked in blood.

"With the horses dead, we have no choice but to walk," Felix said, holding a handful of flame as he looked around. "Do you think we can dig out?"

"Mm. Perhaps," Fenris mused, thinking about the wall of sand they needed to contend with. "These caves may empty out elsewhere, though I hesitate to suggest bringing your mother through them."

Felix let out of a snort of mirthless laughter. "I wouldn't worry about Mother."

In the distance, Fenris heard a faint skittering sound. "Brace yourself for attack. We may need to retreat if they-" He broke off, the sound of skittering growing louder, a crack of rock breaking from the cave ceiling, and they looked up.

"Is that… the cave is… moving," Felix said haltingly.

Feeling sick, Fenris gripped his arm and pulled him back slowly. "More darkspawn. They've climbed the walls. I think we should…"

"Run!" Felix cried, as bodies started to drop from the stalactites.

They turned as one, intent on racing toward the front of the cave to attack from a more fortified position, but stopped short. Three impressive and gruesome hurlocks blocked their path. Turning back, Fenris saw at least half a dozen more. He turned his sword in his hand, the runes activating almost as if by reading his mind, a crackling of electricity surrounding the blade. His markings lit, and he felt himself phase instinctively as the first blow came. Felix spun, back to back with Fenris now as he worked to clear a path for them back to the carriage.

"Hold the line!" Felix shouted. "Don't let any through!"

It was easier said than done, Fenris realized at once. They were vastly outnumbered, at least a dozen darkspawn on the ground now, their crude blades and flails swinging haphazardly at him. He and Felix had the upper hand, weeks of training together, learning how to move, how to anticipate the other's technique. While numerous, it was clear the darkspawn had no such benefit. They weren't organized, didn't have the mentality to understand fighting in tandem. At one point, one of the shorter ones tripped over the next in line and fell on his sword, decapitating himself. Fenris would have found it funny if it weren't for the fact that a dozen darkspawn soon became two dozen, then three. Tactics didn't matter when sheer numbers would overwhelm them in minutes.

"We have to get back to the carriage!" Felix shouted.

"No!" Fenris yelled back, dodging a blow. "We have to lead them away! Drive them back!"

Though they both knew it was futile. At this rate the cave would be overrun. But Fenris remembered his parting promise to Alexius. He would keep them safe; he would fight until his last breath left him. This was his family. He would not let them die. Muscles aching, lungs burning, he charged forward again, cleaving the head off two darkspawn with one stroke. Behind him, the cave lit up with every spell Felix cast, and Fenris heard his labored breathing, the grunts of pain as his force shield took another hit.

Fenris misstepped; a mistake. Blinding pain blossomed from his middle, a jagged flail catching his torso. He landed badly on the sand, another burst of agony as his arm broke in more than one place. The darkspawn closed on him instantly and he closed his eyes, raising his uninjured arm in a vain attempt to stop the blows. A rush of air above him, Felix's anguished cry as he let out a burst of magical energy that forcefully shoved the crowd apart. He fell next to Fenris, covering him with his own body, a silver, shimmering dome around them both.

"Go," Fenris croaked. "Get… to your mother…" The pain in his chest increased tenfold, his ribs likely broken.

Felix's lips were bloodied, his clothing torn, jagged cuts beneath. Fenris reached up to touch one, Felix wincing. Deep. Too deep. If it wasn't treated, he would bleed out. The realization hit him like an icy bucket of water in the pit of his stomach.

"I failed."

"No," Felix said, wheezing with the effort of keeping the shield up as darkspawn continued to hammer relentlessly against it. "No, you did… everything you could." He gripped his hand.

Fenris felt his lyrium brands pulsing, helping to aid in sustaining the only thing separating them from an even swifter end. "I'm… sorry."

"You… were a good… friend," Felix managed, collapsing next to him.

As the shield fell and he slipped into unconsciousness, Fenris swore he heard the sounds of a blasting war horn. Impossible, he thought, miles from nowhere, in a cave filled with darkspawn. The knowledge of his failure complete, he surrendered to the blackness.

-

"He's waking up."

"Bloody impressive. Considering the beating he took."

"Who do you think put lyrium in his skin?"

"Some sadistic fuck with a fetish for tattoos. Shut up and keep healing."

Lyrium.

Hazily, Fenris realized the new voices were talking about him. And as he was fairly sure that darkspawn didn't talk. Or if they did, they wouldn't use the common tongue. His eyelids felt leaden as he opened them, the world bleary for a moment before coming into focus.

"Felix," he managed, though his voice was a whisper, lips chapped, throat dry.

Two men stood above him, one much older than the other, his dark brown beard shot through with grey, hair shaggy around his face. The other could have been his son, the same sharp eyes and hair, though clean-shaven. They were both dressed in similar grey and silver armor. The younger's hands pulsed with a bluish light, the pull of magic heavy in the air as he pressed his fingertips to Fenris's bare chest. The elder one slid a hand under his neck, holding a water skin to his lips. Fenris drank gratefully and tried again, asking for Felix.

"Oh him? He's fine. Breathing and everything. Woke up last night," the man said. "Said your name was Fenris, s'right? He was awful worried about you. He put these markings in your skin?"

"No," Fenris growled, trying to sit up.

"Oi!" the mage protested, pushing him back down. "Broken ribs don't heal _that _fast!"__

__"I want to see him," Fenris demanded._ _

__With a raised eyebrow, but without comment, the elder left Fenris's field of vision. A minute later and Felix was there, looking down at him, concern in his eyes. He was dressed in a fresh outfit, and hardly looked as if he'd been in a fight at all. In fact, if not for the expression on his face, Fenris would say he was completely unaffected by the fight._ _

__"What is it?" Fenris asked, the feeling of relief upon seeing Felix fading as he took in his glassy eyes and pursed lips._ _

__"Mother and Alina didn't make it."_ _

__Felix's words rang hollowly, his voice flat and dead. Fenris frowned, trying to process the simple sentence. Felix was alive, but Florentina was dead. The darkspawn must have broken through and found the carriage. If Felix had only stayed-_ _

___He would be dead, too. And so would you._ _ _

__Fenris felt the bile rise in his throat, turning away to vomit onto the floor. He heard the healer swear, and the sound of footsteps receding. A cool hand touched his forehead and he turned back to look at Felix._ _

__"The Grey Wardens found us," Felix said, in that same flat tone. He brushed his thumb along Fenris's brow, a subtle spell to cool his fevered skin. "We're leaving in a few hours. Returning home. I'll need to… tell… Father. Excuse me."_ _

__He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Fenris alone to stare at the ceiling, stomach roiling, the bitter taste still in his mouth._ _

__Worse than that, he was left with the knowledge that not only did he fail, but now he had to live with it._ _


	19. Chapter 19

The Grey Wardens were scouting the Deep Roads, tracking the pack of darkspawn that attacked the carriage when they came across Felix and Fenris, unconscious and near death. After rescuing them and healing the majority of their wounds, they moved them to one of several underground outposts to recover. Fenris learned he lost four days. The Circle at Hossberg would be missing them, but Fenris knew Felix had no inclination to continue their journey. As they sat dining on a thin stew, he reiterated the need to return to Tevinter, and Fenris remained quiet.

They would return home to Alexius. Felix would explain what happened. Alexius would blame Fenris. And then what? Hand him back over to Danarius? Sell him? Have him killed? Would Alexius wield the blade that removed his head from his shoulders? He never struck Fenris as a vengeful man, but this was horrible enough to be an exception in any man's book, even one as amiable as Alexius. He put his spoon down, appetite gone, and spent the rest of the evening alone, lying on an uncomfortable bed roll, contemplating his fate.

Should he run? Would Alexius hunt him down? Make the punishment worse because he tried to take the coward's way out? Fenris rolled over, eye catching his sword, sheathed, lying on the ground a few feet away. He reached out, catching the strap with his fingertips, and pulled it close. He remembered the words on the blade. Courage. Courage to make a choice. To accept his fate, no matter what. He owed it to Alexius to accept whatever punishment was coming. He deserved it. If he ran, it would be a slap in the face to the man who gave so much to make sure he was happy. And he had been happy for a time. To have a family that he cared for, even loved.

He would face him.

-

Fenris managed a few hours of sleep before one of the Grey Wardens shook him awake. They packed a cart pulled by a disgruntled looking bronto: everything they salvaged from the carriage, and two wrapped corpses, a freezing spell placed upon them to keep them from decomposing. Felix walked ahead of the cart, eyes wet but pride keeping the tears from falling today. Fenris knew he'd cried already, heard him. He said nothing. It wasn't his place to try to comfort him, not when it was his fault they were dead. 

The two Wardens who nursed them back to health kept pace at the front. When they learned that Felix was a Tevinter mage, they asked him quite a few questions about his father, asking him what he did specifically, if he was involved in any special groups in Tevinter outside the Magisterium, what type of magic he was good with. Felix dodged them as skillfully as he could, until finally Fenris stepped up, bringing the entire group to a halt.

"Stop talking to him or I will remove your vocal chords," he growled.

"Fenris," Felix whispered.

"We appreciate your assistance, but you will leave him alone. He doesn't need this right now." Fenris considered touching the pommel of his sword, slung on his back right now, to emphasize the threat.

"Right," the old one said gruffly. "Just making conversation. No need to get tetchy." He gestured to the other and they walked ahead, lengthening their lead.

"That wasn't necessary," Felix said quietly.

Fenris fell in step next to him. He was still tasked with keeping Felix safe, and if that meant from busybody Grey Wardens, then so be it. "Even if I believed they weren't bothering you, they have no right to pry into the family's affairs."

"… I suppose you're right."

Fenris frowned. "My apologies," he muttered. "Perhaps I should not have…"

"It's not your fault," Felix said abruptly. "Mother and Alina. There was absolutely no way to save them. We did everything we could."

Fenris thought to argue, but Felix shook his head vehemently. He didn't want to hear whatever Fenris had to say. Out of respect, Fenris held his tongue. They walked on in silence, through the Deep Roads, presumably toward another entrance that would bring them into Tevinter.

_We,_ Fenris thought. We did everything we could, Felix said. He fought just as hard as Fenris. They both failed. But could Fenris really expect Felix to take even part of the blame for his mistake? If he'd scouted the cave instead of that idiot driver, they might not have stopped. Better to be lost in a sandstorm, or lose the horses to phoenixes or varghests instead of darkspawn. Their chances against the weather might have been infinitely better than against the darkspawn. Or, another part of him thought, they could've ended up dead, victims to the unforgiving elements of the Anderfels.

_At least I can bring his son home to him,_ Fenris thought.

It was this thought that kept him going for the next several days, through the Deep Roads which were thankfully free of darkspawn. He wondered if it was because of the Grey Warden's strong presence in the area, or perhaps the dwarves, who kept embassies both under and above ground in Tevinter. Regardless, they reached the surface exhausted but unscathed. Felix quietly paid the Grey Wardens for their service, the cart, and the bronto, and they said their quiet, brief goodbyes.

While brontos were rarely seen above ground, especially along this stretch of the Imperial Highway, it was less the hulking beast and more the two cloth-wrapped corpses that drew the eyes of the other travelers. It took them several hours to reach the city, neither talking, neither wanting to stop despite their weariness. The streets narrowed and Felix unhitched the bronto, giving it to a bewildered farmer, trading it for an old plow horse to pull the cart instead.

The Alexius estate loomed in the distance just as the sun started to set. Felix led the way through the property gates, down the winding path, stopping at the massive staircase that led up another set of gates. He let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing at his face with his closed fist. He looked as tired as Fenris felt.

"Please stay with the cart. I need… I need to get Father."

Fenris nodded, watched as Felix tried to say something, merely shook his head, and started up the stairs, one agonizing step after another. Despite the season, a chilly wind blew across the yard and Fenris shivered. He couldn't stop, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling sick. Some of the same thin stew and a bit of broth was all either of them had eaten since their last meal with Florentina and Alina at the inn they'd stopped at for the night. He wasn't hungry; couldn't bear the thought of food right now, and what little was in his system threatened to expel itself on the estate's perfectly manicured lawn. He waited for what seemed like hours, not even pacing, simply standing vigil, eyes trained on the gate above him, waiting to see what would happen to him next.


	20. Chapter 20

The Alexius estate fell into full mourning, nary a color to be seen anywhere. The portraits were covered with black cloth, and the halls remained silent. Two days after their return, the funeral was held in the grand ballroom, Magister Halward Pavus the organizer. Fenris stood quietly in the shadows with the rest of the servants as the mourners arrived. Of course, the scandal of having a joint funeral for both the mistress of the house and a slave at the same service did not escape the attention of the nobles. Fenris heard their whispers when no one thought they were listening, the gossip of what really happened – for a darkspawn attack was something no one wanted to think about. He knew he would be blamed, but he didn't care about them, just what Alexius thought.

Alexius usually remained a cool, calculated figure in public. He handled debates with ease, and even managed to smile after the death of his daughter. Today though, with everyone who approached him, his resolve cracked just a little more. Felix stood at his side, holding his arm and Fenris thought, also holding him up. Felix managed tight-lipped and mirthless smiles at the mourners, thanking them for coming, while Alexius could barely keep his tear-filled eyes up. Fenris wanted to go to him, to apologize. But as with the death of their daughter, it was not his place to do so. Alexius would summon him if he wanted to speak to him.

The other slaves did not bother looking at him. Fenris knew the accusing glares were for him and chose to ignore them. No one except Felix had been there; no one knew what happened, how hard they fought. If he could have saved Alina, he would have. Information filtered down from snatches of rumors heard from other slaves in other houses, pieces of the story from the newspapers from the slaves who could read. Felix's official report to the courts was brief, and made no mention of the number of darkspawn they had to fight. He gave the same account to the house slaves, apologizing for the death of Alina. The true, full tale was left to speculation; no one knew how close they were to dying themselves.

Part of Fenris wished he'd died there. If only so Felix could return and tell Alexius that he'd died trying to save them all. Not that he wanted to be branded a hero or a martyr, just that it would have been easier than to have to deal with the failure and disappointment. Guilt heavy in his breast, he knew what he had to do. He would return the sword to Alexius and offer his life. If the Maker existed, perhaps He would be merciful and grant him a swift death. But then, why should he deserve that, when Florentina died trapped in a carriage in a cave flooded with darkspawn?

The service ended, Fenris barely having listened to the priest's eulogies for both women. He caught glimpses of familiar faces as they said their farewells. The family and their close friends would filter into the smaller room next door for food and quiet contemplation. Standing on Alexius's other side was Dorian, dressed in plain black clothes bereft of their usual ornamental flare. His father shook hands with the mourners as they left. Dorian was talking, leaning close to Alexius, but Fenris couldn't make out what he was saying. Words of comfort, no doubt, and Fenris felt even worse. He'd caused so many people such grief.

A sharp, stinging pain in his side interrupted his thoughts. A hand clamped around his arm and he crushed the instinct to fight back. Causing a scene here would only shame the family further.

"Move," Namir hissed in his ear, herding him toward a hidden side exit used only for servants and slaves.

Fenris looked over his shoulder. No one else was paying attention. The few house slaves in attendance were staring resolutely ahead. They knew, they simply thought he deserved whatever he had coming to him. He could cry out, call to Alexius and Felix, but he wouldn't and Namir knew it. So instead he allowed himself to be pushed through the subtle panel that slid neatly back into place once they passed.

"You've been nothing but trouble. Even in Danarius's house. And since you came here, you've caused this family only pain and grief."

The hand around his bicep was painful and bruising. Fenris felt worse, had been called worse. Namir's pain was nothing he couldn't handle. He needed someone to blame for Alina's death, and rightly it fell onto Fenris's shoulders. He wouldn't listen to any explanation anyway. Fenris's back hit the wall with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of him.

"She was everything to me," Namir growled, knife in hand.

Fenris reached back to the touch the spot where the knife tip dug into his side, fingers wet with blood. A shallow, superficial cut. He looked up at Namir, face twisted with pain and despair. "I am sorry," Fenris whispered. 

"SORRY! You're sorry! I lost the woman I love. Master Alexius lost his wife! It should have been you!"

Namir lunged, and for the barest of seconds, Fenris considered letting the knife plunge into his middle. He dodged, but did not fight back. The knife slammed into the wall, jarring Namir's arm, knuckles scraping against the stone. He lunged again and Fenris leapt back out of the way.

"Stand and fight!" Namir screamed. "STAND AND FIGHT ME, COWARD!"

"I will not."

Perhaps it was Fenris's calm demeanor that drove Namir to it, or perhaps his own grief was simply too much for him to handle. The air thickened, growing warm. Namir dropped to his knees, a terrible, awful wailing filling the hall. Fenris's eyes widened as Namir's back bent like a bow, arms jerking as if pulled by a marionettist's strings. His chest cracked, ribcage fanned open like a gruesome butterfly as his body shook violently, lifted up and off his feet as his limbs elongated, flesh bubbling and stretching to something grotesque. An abomination. Fenris had seen many. He stepped back, filled with horror. Namir was no mage – how could he do this?

Behind him two black holes opened in the carpet. The temperature rose, causing him to break out in sweat. A deep, guttural cry filled the hall as a rage demon, dripping flame, clawed its way through the Veil. Beside it, hooded and shrieking, limbs akimbo, a demon of despair. Namir's anguish must have been so complete, so great, the Fade itself answered the call. He didn't think it was possible for any non-mage to achieve something like this, but here it was, evidence before his eyes. He didn't have time to marvel at the implications, his lyrium markings pulling painfully, pulsing. All he could do was dodge to avoid being hit. He wanted to fight them, to stop them before they caused any damage, but his sword was in his room, a flight above them and in the main part of the house. The path behind him led further to the servants' quarters and the kitchens, the path in front blocked by the demons, the only way back to the house.

He shuddered as the rage demon sent a fireball through him, felt its heat despite his phased form. The abomination that was Namir swiped at his face, one clawed hand passing through his head. It howled in rage, which only fueled the demons behind him. Fenris caught the next blow and wrenched its arm down, pulling with all his strength. Bones cracked and popped, another cry from the abomination, this time of pain as it dropped to its knees. A lance of ice from the despair demon shot through the hall, catching Fenris through the shoulder. Freezing cold, sharp as a dagger, it pierced his tunic and skin, rendering his left arm immobile. Momentarily stunned, he couldn't dodge the fireball from the rage demon, which barreled into his chest, knocking him from his feet. He smelled his own burning flesh as the fire fizzled out, the intense, blinding pain keeping him immobile.

"What in the Maker's name-"

The abomination lumbered to its feet, arm hanging uselessly by its side, held on by strands of sinew. Around its legs, Fenris saw Dorian, already in a crouched fighting position, a handful of flame at the ready. The abomination lumbered toward him and Dorian unleashed, the fire burning hotter than the rage demon's, so intense it left his palm as a blue streak of light. The abomination screamed and flailed, the fire catching its face, melting its flesh. It fell to the ground, twitching in throes of death. Fenris's stomach clenched and he pulled himself back, using his right arm to drag his body back out of the fray.

The despair demon screamed, raising its arms and shooting to the ceiling, Dorian's eyes following carefully, another two handfuls of flame at the ready as he cast another spell. Fenris knew how dangerous it was to fight here: if any of the tapestries or the rug caught on fire, they would be trapped in an inferno with the potential for the house to burn down.

"Dorian, watch out!"

Dorian threw himself forward, summersaulting under a blast of flame from the rage demon. He rolled left, then right, avoiding the jagged spikes of ice from the despair demon above. Fenris grabbed the base of a statue to pull himself to his feet, chest aching and burning, the pain intensifying. He was going to black out. Trying to focus, he pushed himself forward, lyrium brands bright white and ghost-like. On instinct, he lifted his uninjured arm, letting out a cry as the magic pulsed through him, the light coalescing in his palm, violently rushing forward. A ball of silver light, pure lyrium, shot from his hand and hit the rage demon in the back. It howled and shattered, droplets of flame falling to the floor where they burned black holes into the carpet and fizzled out.

Fenris saw Dorian look at him briefly, his expression utter confusion, but also gratitude as he turned to deal with the despair demon. Fenris's legs shook and he fell to his knees, sweating and dizzy. The shriek of the despair demon echoed off the walls and Dorian ended its existence with a spell Fenris could not see. His vision swam, the pattern on the carpet pulsating as he fell forward. He clawed internally, trying to stay conscious, but the last thing he saw was Dorian kneeling next to him, face full of concern.

"Hold on," Dorian said, though he sounded very, very far away.

His vision tunneled, and he blacked out.


	21. Chapter 21

"Venhedis! Fasta vass. Stupid elf."

Stupid elf. Him? Fenris was sure it was him. He was often the 'stupid elf' whether it was Danarius or Hadriana cursing him. But this voice held concern, not enmity. He opened his eyes. Someone was screaming. He realized it was himself. A pulse of magic, lyrium brands tingling, and he blacked out again.

Woke up a minute or an hour later.

Cool, sweet, tangy liquid at his lips. He drank thirstily. Static electricity in the air. Eyes closed, but he felt the warmth of magic at his chest.

"Will he live?"

"If I've anything to say."

"Call for a healer?"

"No. I'll do it."

"You'll overextend yourself."

"Then so be it!"

Voices. Worried.

He lost consciousness again and dreamed this time. Glimpses of his former life in Danarius's service. Watching as a little boy bled to death to fuel some pointless display of power. Fighting in the Provings, the feeling of pride. Then of fear as he's punished for some lapse of precision. Being rewarded, attending to Danarius in the baths, then in bed. He didn't want to see this.

A cool hand on his forehead, icy and calming. Felix.

"Felix."

"He's awake."

"Hmph. It figures. I save his life and his first word is your name."

"Jealousy doesn't suit you."

"On the contrary, I believe it suits me very much."

"Dorian," Fenris managed, the word slow like molasses dribbling from his lips.

"Ah there it is. Open your eyes, Fenris."

Fenris did. Felix gently caressed his forehead, smiling genuinely down at him. Dorian stood next to him, leaning on his staff, smirking. Fenris felt relieved; both men were unhurt, though Dorian looked exhausted, understandably.

"How…"

"About six hours you were out," Dorian said. "You missed all the food. Felix insisted on saving you a plate. Up you get."

Felix slid his arm under Fenris's back, helping him to sit up. He looked around, realizing he was in Felix's bedroom, in his bed, and pressed a hand to his bare chest, still sore, but healed.

"Yes, I did do a good job, didn't I?" Dorian preened. "Couple of scars, but that's to be expected. I mean, that Grey Warden that patched you up? He's got nothing on me. Not bad for not being a healer myself."

"I did most of the work," Felix corrected him. "You stood by and fretted."

Fenris let out a laugh which turned to a dry sob. The last few days took its toll on him. The fighting, the pain, the grief. Being beaten to unconsciousness twice in as many weeks, dealing with darkspawn, demons, and death. He shook his head, hair falling in his eyes as he stared down at the blanket covering his lower half.

"I have to go tell Father what happened," Felix said. "Dorian, will you-"

"Yes, of course," Dorian said quickly, all traces of arrogance gone instantly. "Go on."

Felix gave him a grateful smile, then reached out and gently touched the top of Fenris's head before he left.

Dorian sat down on the bed with a sigh. "It's not every day you get to fight abominations and demons in your best friend's house."

"I… I am sorry."

Dorian scoffed. "Unless you conjured them, I don't see that you have anything to apologize for. I'm impressed you were still standing after what you went through. Well, less standing and more breathing." His tone changed, concern again. "We assumed it was Namir. He's missing. Is that right?"

Fenris nodded.

Dorian swore softly. "Should have had someone there to talk to him. A Chantry priest or…" He shook his head. "Not good to get hung up on the 'should haves' and 'could haves'. Are you… all right?"

Fenris scowled. "I won't turn into an abomination."

Dorian's hand slid over his, warm and comforting. "That's not what I mean, Fenris."

Fenris looked up, vision blurring through tears, the first since everything that happened. He hadn't realized how deeply he hurt, how badly he felt. "Felix… would tell me it isn't my fault," he whispered.

"Because it isn't," Dorian said at once, his voice sharp. "The way Felix tells it, you were both as good as dead in that cave. Those Wardens saved you, but couldn't save his mother. It's tragic, Fenris, but the only ones to hold any blame are the blighted darkspawn. Do you understand?"

Fenris lowered his eyes, gasped as Dorian gripped his chin, forcing him to look up. He blinked, hot tears sliding down his cheeks. Dorian brushed them away with his thumb.

"Alexius doesn't blame you either. No one does. No one but yourself. You need to let it go, Fenris."

"How can I?!" Fenris clenched his fists atop the blanket. "How can I when I should have been able to save them?"

He tried to say more, the words sticking in his throat. Dorian slid closer and pulled him into a tight hug, arms wrapped tightly around him, rubbing his back as he whispered soothingly into his ear.

"It's not your fault, Fenris."

It felt like a betrayal to insert himself into the family's grief, to cry for Florentina. "She… I know I shouldn't…" He took a deep breath, face buried embarrassingly in Dorian's chest. He smelled of spice, of fire. Remnant of the spells he used? "I… cared for her."

"Of course you did," Dorian said quietly. "She was a great woman. She cared for you, too."

It wasn't meant as a jab or an insult, but the words hurt. She cared for him and he couldn't save her. "It should have been me."

"But it wasn't," Dorian continued in the same tone. His hands were warm against Fenris's back as he drew his fingertips along his spine. "The Maker does as He will, Fenris. It hurts and it's confusing, but for whatever reason He saw fit to save you and Felix, and took her to His side. She's at peace."

Fenris wasn't sure if he believed that. What kind of god would be so cruel and arbitrary? Why should he live when her life meant so much more? "You say… you say Alexius doesn't blame me," he said, wiping the tears from his face. He didn't move, however, drawing comfort from Dorian's embrace.

"He doesn't. Of course he doesn't. Felix explained everything that happened. It's not as if you threw her to the darkspawn and ran, Fenris. You fought bravely. You saved his son. Again," he added. Dorian gently took his arms, sitting him upright, looking at him intently. "You've been a great help to this family. A staunch protector."

How could he say that? It was the opposite of what Namir said to him, that he was a curse, a plague on the family. They lost their child, and now Florentina and Alina were both dead. If he hadn't been here… If he hadn't been here, then…

_Felix would be dead._

Erimond's elf would have seen to it. And even if he survived that, the trip to Hossberg would have ended similarly. Without Felix's extra training, he might not have made it through. And if by some miracle he did, Grey Wardens coming to the rescue, who's to say that Florentina would have lived as well? Or that Felix would have come out of the attack mostly unscathed?

"I… I suppose you're right."

"I usually am," Dorian said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to Fenris. "Here. Clean yourself up, then come join us in the lounge. Father's leaving in the morning but I'm going to stay for a while, at least until Felix can handle things here. They'll need your support as well."

Fenris took the handkerchief, pearl-colored and silky, a blue and purple peacock embroidered in the corner. He nodded. Dorian's fingers threaded through his hair and warm lips pressed against his forehead. His heart leapt, beating wildly, and he dared not look up as Dorian left the room. He traced the peacock with his finger, frowning, a whorl of emotion inside him. The guilt lessened slightly, he left the bed and headed toward his own room to dress and attend his family.

He kept the handkerchief safe inside his pocket.


	22. Chapter 22

Fenris did not get the chance to speak to Alexius alone until nearly a week after the funeral. Rumors of what happened to Namir were swept cleanly away, the damage to the back hall repaired. The other slaves gave him a wide berth and everything was slowly returning to normal in the house. Deciding that he would take his fate into his own hands, Fenris took up his sword one evening and walked to Alexius's study. They hadn't spoken to one another in private since the night before he left for Hossberg. Fenris missed attending his master, even if it meant potentially having to deal with disappointed looks as he poured brandy.

He took a breath and knocked on the door, feeling bold. If he ever went to Danarius without being called, punishment would be swift and severe. Fenris doubted that Alexius, even in his current state of mind, would so much as raise his voice. The soft, "Come," from inside, and Fenris let himself in. Alexius was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, glass of brandy already in hand, eyes on the crackling fire. Fenris closed the door behind him, standing awkwardly, waiting for the invitation to speak.

"Fenris," Alexius sighed, sipping from his glass. "I should have sent for you sooner. That was… unfair of me. I suppose you've been worried." He looked up at him, eyes flicking to the sword in his hand. "I assume Felix told you that I hold no ill will toward you. It wasn't your fault any more than it was his. Come. Sit."

Fenris crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the couch, holding the sheathed sword in his lap. "I… am sorry." It was insufficient, but he had no way to articulate the sorrow he felt for the loss. "She was a…" He bit his lip, wondering if it was appropriate to say what he felt, to speak her name.

"She was beautiful," Alexius said. "And not just her face, her body. She was a beautiful person. Not many like her in this world, Fenris. The way she could light up a room simply by walking into it. So many people envied her, wanted to be like her, and looked at her as a source of inspiration at the same time." Alexius raised his glass, eyeing the level of brandy before taking another sip. "The first time I asked her to marry me, she turned me down."

Fenris wasn't sure what to say to that. He kept silent, watching Alexius push himself off the sofa and amble toward the sideboard to refill his glass. 

"I pursued her through our years at the Circle. I knew she was the one. I knew I couldn't let her get away." He smiled wistfully with the memories. "I courted her. Flowers and serenades, walks along the river. Bah. But you don't want to hear any of this."

"I do," Fenris said earnestly. He wasn't lying. He had no fond memories of anything before he came to Alexius's house, and the ones he made here, quite a few of them involved Florentina. He didn't want to forget her.

Alexius closed his eyes. "It was a windy night. We were on the pier. Her hat came untied. She said I was stupid, but I knew if I could get that hat, I would convince her somehow to marry me." He sighed. "I froze the river. Parts of it," he said, opening his eyes, looking at Fenris. "I fell in and she had to rescue me from the icy water."

Fenris smiled as Alexius laughed. "Did you retrieve the hat?"

"No. I bought six just like it in different colors though."

Unable to help himself, Fenris chuckled, the thought of Alexius presenting half a dozen hats to Florentina a rather amusing one. "And then she said yes?"

"And then she said yes," Alexius confirmed with another sigh. He set his glass down and returned to the couch, settling against the cushions, arm slung over the back. He looked more relaxed now, though that could have just been the alcohol. "Tell me why you brought your sword."

"I…" Fenris gripped the leather sheath, fingernail picking idly at the stitches. "I wanted to return it. I don't think…"

"What?" Alexius said, leaning forward now. "Don't think you're worthy of it? That I would demand it back because of what happened?"

"I came to offer it because I failed."

Alexius scoffed. "I doubt you could have done any better. Felix told me about the cave. How you… how both of you nearly died. You must have been terrified."

Fenris shifted guiltily at the concern. "I've never fought darkspawn before. I was unprepared. I-"

"Fenris, I am not blaming you. Please stop apologizing."

Fenris nodded. Felix and Dorian said as much. But he found it hard to let go. "The sword-"

"Is yours." A pause. "As… is your freedom, if you want it."

A jolt of panic, eyes darting immediately to Alexius, lips parting. "Master, I-"

Alexius held up a hand to silence him. "It is not a punishment. You've done this family proud. If you were to remain with us, it would be as a paid servant. You would continue in your duties, but you've earned the choice to leave, should you wish it."

Should he wish it? Where would he go? A freed slave had fewer rights than almost anyone in the Imperium. To leave Tevinter, to travel, to see other parts of Thedas, it might not be horrible. But without his family? The thought was terrifying. And while he knew he had the ability to survive on his own, what would he do for coin? Food? Shelter?

"It's a reward, Fenris. Not a punishment," Alexius repeated. "I'm going to arrange it with a judge as soon as… as soon as it's appropriate. No doubt word will spread that I'm relieving you of your duties for this. I expect Danarius will have some choice things to say. Yes? You can speak your mind."

Fenris had started to bite his lip, one knee jiggling nervously. He stopped, took a calming breath, and spoke. "I have no desire to leave. If you think it might be best, though-"

"You saved my son's life. Twice. It would give me no greater pleasure than to keep you a part of this family. But honor, Fenris. Honor states that I give you the choice." He sighed and frowned, pensive a moment. "Centuries ago, slaves were allowed to fight in the Provings for the chance of freeing themselves. Capable warriors, those able to defeat their opponents won their freedom. It's a tradition we've since done away with, but tradition dictates that you've earned a reward. A place in society as a free elf. You've done such a service to my house, that I would be a poor master not to grant you this. Do you understand?"

Fenris nodded, clutching the sword. "Yes. I understand."

"And do you see yourself staying?"

"Of course!" Fenris said at once. He never had an itch for freedom, never wanted to leave Danarius until he met Alexius. And now, after realizing what it meant to be truly happy serving a family, he would be mad to give that up. The idea of working for coin, performing his duties for pay rather than simply because it was expected of him? That was strange. He had no need of gold. What would he spend it on? Alexius provided everything he needed.

Alexius smiled tiredly. "Good. We'll speak to a judge soon. Until then, try to remember what I've said tonight."

Recognizing the dismissal, Fenris stood. "Thank you, Master. I…"

Alexius waved a hand. "Sleep well, Fenris."

Fenris nodded and left, clutching the sword as he returned to his room. Guilt alleviated, he had to think now on this new development.

What in the Maker's name was he going to do with freedom?


	23. Chapter 23

"Kirkwall's chantry?"

"That's right. Some mage."

"Hundreds of people dead in the street."

"Not surprising, considering how mages are treated there."

"It's about time the mages did something about it. You think they'll come here?"

"Maker, I hope not!"

Fenris listened to the idle gossip of the shoppers in the square, several mages holding wicker baskets, pretending to look over the price of fruit while they spoke about some disturbing news in the south. Piecing it together, an apostate burned the chantry in Kirkwall down. Or blew it up. He might have been a member of their Circle, or possibly Fereldan's, and the most intriguing rumor of all was that he was an abomination. He was sure that one was a lie, though. The Right of Annulment was called for, though Fenris was still unclear as to what that meant, and wondered if the Orlesian Chantry was going to get involved. Whispers of an Exalted March set the mages in Tevinter on edge.

He leaned against a wooden post of a stall, one foot propped against it, arms crossed, waiting. Just over three months now he had gained his freedom, his coin purse full of unspent gold. Felix took him shopping regularly in case there was anything he wanted, though nothing caught his eye yet. Dorian insisted on coming along this time, and dragged Felix off an hour into the trip for, "a surprise." A surprise for whom, Fenris had no idea, nor was he told why he couldn't join them. He milled around the square, checking the stalls, purchasing nothing. Not out of habit or obstinacy, but simply because there was nothing he needed.

Despite gaining his freedom, he continued to work for Alexius, having nowhere else to go, and nowhere else he'd rather be. Six weeks of full mourning passed, Felix and Alexius depending heavily on Dorian and, on occasion, Dorian's father. Magisters came and went, Alexius buried himself in paperwork while he tried to stay ahead of his grief. Fenris took his duties one step further and began watering down the wine and brandy. As a slave, he never would have considered such a subversive act. Felix found out, quietly approving the decision, not wanting to watch his father rapidly descend into alcoholism to fend off his grief. He was worn as well, picking up the pieces of his father's senate duties where he could. 'Training' he called it, while Dorian seemed to be repulsed by the idea, even if he quietly assisted with them, lifting the burden further from Alexius.

And as far as Dorian went, Fenris had no idea where he stood with him. One day, Dorian would be unguarded and friendly, joking with him or trying to engage him in conversation. Much like today where he wouldn't take no for an answer for a shopping trip into the city, practically dragging Fenris along. Other days, it was almost as if Fenris didn't exist. Dorian treated him the same as any other slave in the house. Politely, but with a cool detachment. Fenris knew that as a new member of the Liberati class, he fell into a rare slot on the spectrum of society. At the very least he thought, perhaps foolishly, that he wouldn't be treated differently than he had before being given his freedom.

"Oi, knife-ear, move it. Go find your master."

Fenris watched the looming shadow grow larger, falling over him before he glanced up. An overweight, balding man with a stained apron, holding a bloody cleaver. A meat stall was just across the way, and it seemed that the butcher took issue with his loitering, despite it not being his area. He glanced at the woman whose post he'd been leaning against, another elf, young and pretty with wide blue eyes. She was selling wildflowers. She also didn't meet his eye and, it seemed, would not be coming to his defense. He pushed away from the post unhurriedly, uncrossing his arms and straightened, giving the man a better view of his both his markings and the sword strapped to his back. He rarely went anywhere without now.

"I have no master."

The words pained him to say. Too many years a slave and he'd gotten used to being at Danarius's side all the time. No one questioned him then.

"S'at right?" the butcher continued, spitting on the ground, just missing Fenris's foot.

Fenris looked down at the mark on the cobblestones, contemplating his next move. Had they been alone, he might have simply ripped the man's heart from his chest. But there was no telling if he was a mage, confident in his abilities, or just a regular bigot who hated his kind. He looked back up at him, eyes narrowed, and allowed the lyrium lines to pulsate, to glow subtly. "You do not want to try that again."

"Fenris!"

The butcher turned, and Fenris stepped back to glance around the rotund form. Felix waved to him, coming closer, Dorian in tow. The butcher looked back at him, sneering.

"Seems you DO have masters after all."

"Actually," Dorian said, catching the snide remark, "our friend Fenris here was just eagerly awaiting our arrival. You see, we had to buy him a present for his name-day and we didn't want him snooping around to find out what it was before his party tonight."

Fenris tried not to look as if this was news to him. Or was Dorian simply lying to shame the butcher?

"I'm sure you have something better to do than harass paying customers," Felix added, eyeing the man from head to toe. "Or does the meat cut itself?"

The butcher scowled, gave Fenris one last dirty look, then retreated back across the square.

"I… thank you," Fenris muttered.

"Better that than having to explain in the courts why you felt the need to make his insides his outsides," Dorian replied with a smirk. "I wasn't lying about the party. You know it's been a year since you've come to Alexius's house? I thought we should celebrate." He held up the packages he was carrying. "With presents."

Fenris felt the heat rise in his face, embarrassed. "That's… that's not necessary."

"Nonsense," Felix insisted. "Besides, it won't be a large gathering. With father away for the weekend, we thought having a few friends over for drinks to celebrate your freedom properly would be enjoyable."

"You mean _I_ thought it was a good idea and browbeat you into it until you agreed," Dorian amended. He winked at Fenris. "What good is having all this money if you don't spend it on your friends, anyway? Come. We've already sent out the invitations and if the guest of honor doesn't show, it'll be dreadfully boring."

Obviously Fenris was supposed to agree, so he nodded, emboldened by both Felix and Dorian's near identical grins of approval, and followed them out of the marketplace. They chatted animatedly about the upcoming night, Fenris trailing behind them. He felt slightly nervous, not knowing exactly what a gathering like this would entail. It didn't sound like the great galas the Alexiuses usually threw, or the small celebrations Florentina had been so fond of. A group of friends sitting around, perhaps discussing the current events in the south?

He would have to wait and see.


	24. Chapter 24

Fenris could scarcely remember a more awkward situation. Three dozen of Felix and Dorian's "closest" friends showed up to celebrate. Associates from their time spent in the Circle, and friends-of-friends, it was explained to him. The house slaves ducked and dodged, delivering more alcohol and simple snacks, while some type of upbeat music played from a wooden box device with a needle and a horn-shaped metal cone. Felix tried to explain how it worked to him, but Fenris could only grasp the concept. One of Danarius's former slaves was in charge of making sure the wax discs were changed out in an orderly fashion to keep the music playing.

After being introduced to a number of people whom he was fairly sure he'd never see again, Fenris found himself sitting on the edge of a sofa, one glass of wine away from being drunk. His reception had ranged from wary – not many mages knew what to do with a free elf, after all – to cheerfully pleasant. One woman in particular, a pretty blond with curls, even kissed his cheek and told him how handsome he was. But now he was left on his own, Felix nowhere to be seen and Dorian in the corner, talking quietly to his own handsome companion. Fenris tamped down on his jealousy as soon as he recognized the emotion for what it was.

The gifts Dorian and Felix purchased for him were thoughtful. A gorgeous set of daggers to accompany his sword, two new tailored outfits, 'Befitting a free elf of Tevinter,' Dorian proclaimed, and a set of soaps and scents. The last was not something he exactly expected, but it was clear Dorian put some thought into it, Felix complaining about the time it took to pick everything out. Fenris wondered briefly if it was a slight on his own appearance, but realized that Dorian simply turned his own meticulous grooming into an art form, and for whatever reason, wanted to share that with Fenris.

He watched Dorian's companion lead him from the room, their fingers entwined loosely. Dorian set his wine glass on an end table and slipped out. Before Fenris could stop himself, he stood, swaying slightly, and followed as inconspicuously as he could. Laughter echoed down the hall, and he heard the man's voice, deep and rich.

"Any bedroom?"

"Not the master suite, nor Felix's," Dorian said in a rush. "I would be a poor friend to take advantage."

The guest wing was not that far from the leisure room where the party was, forgotten now in pursuit of other pleasures. Dorian opened one of the doors and pulled the man inside, smirking. Fenris followed, peering through the crack. Had he been sober, he wouldn't have done it. It was an affront to his house to spy on something like this. There was no need. But this was supposedly a party for him – a fact he doubted more and more by the minute – and both hosts had gone off to find greener pastures.

Dorian's arms wrapped around the man's neck, having to lean up to kiss him, hips already grinding shamelessly. They made short work of their clothing in a rush to get to the bed. Fenris's breath hitched and caught as he watched. He'd seen Dorian naked before, but never in this state, muscles taut, cock hardening, skin flushed with need. Despite his inebriation, Fenris felt his own body reacting in kind at the sight, the shame of what he was doing not enough to stop his arousal. He would not, however, indulge himself right there in hall as he watched.

They hit the bed with a quiet thump, Dorian groaning as he wriggled against the silken sheets. The man climbed over him easily, kissing him, touching him. Dorian urged him lower, dark fingers sunken into darker hair, pulling, teasing. Fenris's eyes flicked briefly to Dorian's face, mouth open in an 'O' of pleasure, quietly panting as he rocked his hips. Tongue met cock, and Dorian's moans filled the room. Fenris watched the intimate act, knowing how it felt to give, but never receive. He'd done it for Danarius on several occasions, but to him it was never more than another part of his service as a slave. Dorian's partner truly seemed to be enjoying himself.

And Dorian… Fenris looked back at him.

And froze.

Dorian's eyes were open, fixed on him. Half-lidded, smirking. Pink tongue darting out, licking his lips, gazing at Fenris intently.

Fenris ran.

He swore, cursing his stupidity as he made for his room, a safe place in a house of confusion, and locked the door behind him. He never should've followed Dorian. Maker's breath, he never should have even been at the party. But he wouldn't blame Felix or even Dorian. They wanted him to try to have a good time, but Fenris was suited for the battlefield, not for this. He was comfortable with a sword in hand, not a glass of wine. And no matter how they dressed him up, he would never be part of their society. They could take him on trips into the city, pretend he was an equal, was more than a servant. They could introduce him to their friends and proclaim parties in his honor. But none of that was the real truth. He would always be a slave, free or not.

With that sobering thought, he washed his face, stripped, and fell into bed. Sleep was a long time in coming, visions of Dorian's face, the sounds he made as his bed partner pleasured him. He'd lost his arousal when fled the hall, too mortified to think rationally at that point. Simply because Dorian and Felix wished to play at friendship it didn't give him leave to spy on intimate, private acts. He rolled over, punching his pillow, closed his eyes. But his thoughts betrayed him. In his mind's eye, _he_ was the one pleasuring Dorian, causing him to moan and writhe, sinking his fingers into his hair, pulling, guiding.

Before he could stop himself, his hand slid down, fingers wrapping around his cock which was fully erect again. Memories of performing for Danarius flooded his vision but the old magister was replaced by Dorian, young and excited and needy, begging Fenris to finish him off.

_"Horrible elf! Horrible, wonderful tease."_

_"You enjoy it when I tease you."_

_"I do. I truly do – oh! Sweet Maker, Fenris!"_

Fenris thrust his hips, panting as the Dorian in his mind came, tasting so sweet as he swallowed. Dorian flipping them over, kissing him, the length of his body pressed against Fenris's, sliding down to kiss the lines of lyrium that covered his skin until he came to stop between his legs. That arrogant smirk as he returned the act, the warmth of his mouth pushing Fenris to the edge of pleasure.

He opened his eyes, breathless, and looked down at the mess on his hand. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced it, waking from a pleasant dream to find his bed damp and sticky. But this wasn't a dream. In fact, it was the first time he'd voluntarily brought himself to orgasm. Previously he always felt guilty, telling himself his body wasn't his own, that he belonged to Danarius. Serving his old master, there was little desire to do anything for himself in the ways of… well, anything, not just sexual gratification. On the rare occasion that he reached climax when Danarius penetrated him, he found little enjoyment outside the brief surge of pleasure. With nothing to compare it to, he never understood why such an importance was placed on coupling.

If being with someone as an equal was half as enjoyable as what he just experienced, Fenris was starting to understand. And now that he was no longer a slave, he was free to pursue that, wasn't he? He scoffed, pulling himself from bed, still slightly inebriated, and stumbled to the washbasin to clean himself up. The only way he would find companionship of that sort in Tevinter would be with a whore. Most elves here were slaves, unable to consent even if they had the mind to. And no human would indulge him unless they were being paid to do so.

He thought of his coin purse, tucked away in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He could take it, walk into the city to the red lantern district, find a suitable house. But would it feel like it did with Danarius? Or would he experience the same rush of pleasure, the prolonged happiness he felt just few minutes ago, pining after a man who confused him with a constantly changing attitude? It wasn't worth the risk. Besides, the wine was going to his head and he doubted he would make it ten steps outside the estate let alone ten blocks.

Confused, with an odd feeling of loneliness and longing, he collapsed back into his bed and fell asleep, dreaming of the possibilities of freedom.


	25. Chapter 25

"Six more Grey Wardens in the area," Alexius said, looking over his plate at Felix.

Fenris stood in his usual spot near the wine table, waiting to pour should they have need of him. It took some getting used to, the chair where Florentina sat now empty, just Alexius and Felix dining each evening. Alexius returned to the estate at the beginning of the week, none the wiser about what transpired while he was away. Felix helped the slaves clean the leisure room and the halls, a gesture that ensured tightly sealed lips. Though Fenris, knowing what he did about Felix's character, didn't believe that Felix helped them for a bribe. He'd rarely ever known someone like Felix, who performed duties and tasks not because he expected compensation, but because it was the decent thing to do.

"I've heard more," Felix replied, frowning. "What do you think they're doing here?"

Alexius shook his head. "Research, perhaps? I had a talk with Servis regarding it. He was rather vague. Kept changing the subject."

Felix's frown deepened. "That doesn't sound good."

"Hm. Indeed. He's been spending a lot of time with Erimond of late, which is disconcerting in itself. You know how they don't exactly get on."

" _No one_ gets on with Erimond," Felix impressed. "I'd be surprised if Servis was doing it out of anything except his own self-serving nature. He's got to be getting something out of it."

"Yes, but what? Power and influence, Servis has both, more than Erimond. They move in the same circles, so it's not to increase his reach."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that he was vague with you," Felix said, cutting another piece of steak. He held the fork precariously in his hand, contemplating it for a moment. "You don't think…"

Alexius's own fork clattered to his plate; Fenris jumped. "Yes, I know, Felix."

Fenris frowned, shifting uncomfortably. In the time spent with both men, he'd seen them argue and debate and discuss, but never with an angry tone. Alexius was patient with everyone, but seemed to have a special reserve of indulgence for his son. Yet now Fenris could see the stress of something wearing on his master. The lines on his forehead were deeper, dark circles under his eyes, a scowl to his lips where normally there would be a smirk or a smile, especially for his son. And Felix? He dropped his eyes to his plate momentarily, taking a breath before looking up again. Fenris had never felt more bewildered. What was going on? He took up the wine bottle and crossed to the table to refill both glasses before returning to his place.

"They can't push you out," Felix said determinedly. "You have high favor in the courts. You met with Archon Radonis just after mother died. You said-"

"I _know_ what I said, Felix. But as much power as the Archon holds, you know the delicate balance of the Magisterium. If they see their Archon as weak, they'll work to depose him. It seems those I once counted as friends have decided to pull away. For good or ill, there is a reason, and I mean to find out why. I'm attending Erimond's gala next week."

"And me?" Felix asked, clearly not willing to take 'no' for an answer.

Alexius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat back in his chair. "Yes. I suppose you'll need to attend as well."

"Someone's got to make sure you're safe," Felix said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mm. That's why I'm inviting Fenris," Alexius teased back. He looked at Fenris. "That is if you're willing."

"Yes, Master," Fenris said, inclining his head.

"Don't you trust me, Father?" Felix asked, grinning.

"I did. Until you decided to use my house to throw an impromptu celebration for your degenerate friends while I was away."

The grin slid from Felix's face comically fast. "How did you-"

"It is my house. I have my ways. Regardless, nothing of importance was destroyed and you did fare well in cleaning things up. The party was Dorian's influence, no doubt."

"What was my influence?" Dorian asked, entering the dining room.

Fenris immediately moved to the side door to call for another plate.

"That won't be necessary," Dorian said, catching his eye, lifting a hand. "I've no appetite tonight."

He did look pale, gone was the usual flounce in his step, the pull of a smile always at the corners of his lips. Fenris wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Are you ill?" Alexius asked, concerned. "We weren't expecting you back for another few days. Did something happen?"

"You could say that. I'll do with some wine though," Dorian added, looking at Fenris. "Please." He fell into a seat next to Felix, who looked at him apprehensively. "You're looking at me as if I'm made of delicate crystal, about to break if you so much as breathe at me. Stop it. Thank you," he said as Fenris handed him a glass of wine.

"We were discussing the party you and Felix saw fit to host last weekend, but that's neither here nor there now. What's troubling you? Why are you here early?"

Dorian scoffed. "My dear man, the way you talk you make me think I'm unwanted." He made a show of pouting before downing half his wine.

"Is it that horrible?" Alexius asked, eyebrow raised. "Normally you only dodge when it's something…"

Dorian waved a hand, scowling slightly. "I think sometimes, Alexius, you know me better than you ought to."

"Perhaps we should move to the lounge," Felix suggested. "For privacy."

Fenris rankled slightly at that, but kept his expression neutral. It was simply one more thing that reminded him that he was not, in fact, an equal in this house. And the reminder should not have bothered him the way it did. "I can leave if you'd prefer." At least he was able to speak freely for the most part, and offering to remove himself, he wouldn't be seen as presumptuous.

"I simply meant that-"

Dorian let out a bark of mirthless laughter. "Fenris knows my secrets just as much as anyone in this house." He paused. "Bit strange if you think about it. But no, no, I count him among my friends, my friends being those in this room and not beyond that."

"Dorian, explain what you're on about," Alexius said.

To an outsider, it would have seemed that Alexius was annoyed with Dorian, but Fenris saw it for what it was. Alexius always pushed Dorian. Not the same way he pushed Felix, but he never let either man settle for anything less than what he thought they deserved. And even then he still pushed. Dorian was upset; Alexius would have answers. And then he would work with him to correct whatever problem his progeny had.

"I'm leaving Tevinter."

"What?"

"You can't!"

The first from Alexius, the last from Felix, and from Fenris? Nothing, but a concerned frown and a near slip of the wine bottle.

"It seems my mother is tired of my pickiness when it comes to finding a wife. The last one you see, her ears weren't perfectly symmetrical. We would have had children with asymmetrical ears. Is that something you can see me settling for? Less than perfect children? It would be the scandal of all scandals. All of Thedas would-"

"Dorian."

Dorian shut up instantly, the sarcastic tone fading as he spoke again. "They were organizing another marriage when I told them I wasn't interested."

Alexius waited, saying nothing.

Dorian took a breath and continued, placing the wine glass on the table, hands shaking slightly, he ran one through his hair. "My father called me into his study. Said that this… 'nonsense' needed to stop. That I had to marry. That mother was no longer going to tolerate my… 'aberrations'."

Felix inhaled sharply. "Did she-" He cut off when Alexius held up a hand.

"So Father… he…" Dorian was picking at the tablecloth now, eyes focused on it, trying to speak. Fenris realized his voice was quavering, and wondered what in the Maker's name happened to cause Dorian such upset. "He tried to… I…"

Silence for a moment.

Alexius cleared his throat. "He's known about your preferences for some time, Dorian."

"Yes, I'm aware!" Dorian snapped. "I… I am sorry. That was…"

"Don't apologize," Alexius said gently. "What did Halward do?"

Dorian rolled up his sleeves, revealing two long white lines running from his wrists to the insides of his elbows. Felix swore, and Fenris saw Alexius's expression go cold. Dorian quickly pulled his sleeves down again.

"He said… weekly treatments until I'm 'better' would cure me." Dorian looked away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I told him I was leaving earlier than I intended in order to follow up on some research. That we were still pursuing the time magic despite… despite everything. He believed me. I'm not going back, Alexius. I simply had to say goodbye before I left."

Alexius's lips pursed into a tight frown. "Dorian, you can't leave it like this. You need to talk to your father-"

"About what?!" Dorian shouted. "About how great an idea it is to subject his only son to blood magic because he thinks that my own feelings shouldn't matter? That I should live the rest of my life in quiet agony? And what about whatever poor girl they get to marry me? How am I supposed to see to her happiness? It isn't fair to her and damn sure well isn't fair to me!" He'd gotten to his feet mid-rant, fists clenched. "I came here seeking some kind of support but I suppose I should have known you would side with him."

"Dorian-" Alexius rose.

"Never mind," Dorian muttered. "I'll write." He turned on his heel and fled.

Before either man could react, and before he realized what he was doing, Fenris followed.


	26. Chapter 26

Fenris caught up with Dorian on the steps to the estate, glowlamps giving off an eerie blue light in the otherwise dark and moonless night. He was fairly certain he would have chased Dorian all the way to the city proper, but Dorian slowed and stopped, leaning heavily on the iron fence that separated the estate from the street. Fenris approached slowly. When he followed, he had no real plan in his mind other than to get to Dorian, but to do what? Comfort him? He reached out to touch his shoulder, thought better, and let his hand drop.

"Dorian…"

Dorian leaned over, hand on his knee as he took a breath. Fenris threw caution to the wind and touched his back lightly. After all, Dorian had offered comfort to him when he needed it, why shouldn't he be able to return the favor? Thankfully, Dorian did not shrug him off or yell at him. He simply slid to the ground, sitting heavily on the stone. Fenris knelt next to him, not removing his hand, slowly rubbing his back the way Dorian had done for him. Dorian shifted, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he caught his breath.

"I should have known better than to come here. I should have just left."

Fenris remained quiet for now, letting him ramble, like drawing poison from a wound. Once the anger dissipated, he might be more receptive to any advice Alexius had to offer. Fenris believed that Alexius had Dorian's best interests at heart, even if it meant returning to the Pavus estate to confront his father.

"He taught me to hate blood magic," Dorian spat angrily, pulling on a strand of hair. "The resort of the weak mind. Is my father weak? I never viewed him as such. But this… this… it's too much. I _know_ I'm a disappointment to him. I've tried to be perfect in every way they asked me to. I played their games, attended their parties. I was even prepared to inherit the position, the power, the responsibilities. We all need to grow up at some point, even if it turns us into mindless, boring drones. Maybe… maybe I could have done some good in the Magisterium."

Fenris agreed silently. With mages like Dorian and Felix in government, perhaps the Imperium had a chance at change. Whatever that meant, it would be positive for Tevinter, he was sure of that. Dorian might have been impulsive, naïve, but he was a good man. He would have hung up his playboy cloak and adapted a more responsible nature. But that wasn't exactly what his father was asking for, was it? Fenris reached up, taking Dorian's hand out of his hair, where he was still tugging on the same lock. Dorian looked at him, eyes glassy in the blue glow of the lamps.

"You will hurt yourself."

Dorian laughed. "Like it matters. If I don't do it, my father will see to it."

Fenris tilted his head slightly, unconsciously. "He has decided this is best for you, even if it is not."

"Oh but it is, don't you see?" Dorian said venomously. "It's the only way I'll be perfect for him. Once he changes me, makes me realize that I've been living a lie, that this… this _sin_ is washed away, I'll be on my way to becoming Archon and he can proclaim to all his friends, to the whole Imperium that he _finally_ has a son to be proud of!"

"Alexius did not mean to hurt you," Fenris insisted, holding tightly to Dorian's hand. "He was trying to see things from your father's point of view."

Dorian scoffed. "My father's point of view is nothing more than disappointment at having a son who was born with the predilections for the wrong sex. Alexius is right. He's known. Far longer than I think he cared to admit. But I carried on carefully, privately. Quietly. You do that, no one can shun you. Everything is just how it should be. Make them all believe I'm simply picky in my tastes in women. And Maker only knows what would happen if I just married the girl. Allowed to continue? Possibly. Probably. But exactly to whom is that fair? No one," he declared. "Not a single person. She would learn to hate me. I would learn to hate myself. All while fucking some random men behind her back while we slept in separate rooms until it was time to try to sire an heir for myself."

The stress, the pressure that was put upon him, showed as his shoulders shook. Fenris settled closer, arm around him now. He hesitated, but pressed his cheek to the top of Dorian's head. The shaking slowed, then stopped, a quiet sniff as Dorian reached up to wipe his eyes.

"I've got to leave."

"Stay tonight," Fenris insisted. "You'll do yourself no favors by traveling at night in this state. And your father will not catch wise to what's going on. Alexius would not betray you."

"…You're right."

Fenris started to pull away when Dorian gripped his arm, holding him in place. They sat like that for some time, listening to crickets chirping in the distance, a cool breeze rustling the grass and the leaves in the trees. Fenris heard the quiet inhale and exhale of Dorian's breathing, and impulsively pressed his lips to his hair. Dorian looked up at him, eyes dry now, though his confidence clearly shaken.

"You're a better friend than I've deserved."

The statement startled Fenris. How was he to interpret that? Were they indeed friends? Did Dorian truly see him that way, the line between mage and slave erased? Or was he simply saying it because he was vulnerable? Because he needed someone to talk to and Fenris happened to react more quickly than either Felix or Alexius? If it was Felix instead of him, would Dorian have said the same thing? Fenris knew how arrogant Dorian was. Did he really think himself undeserving of simple compassion?

"Blood magic is abhorrent," Fenris heard himself saying. "Danarius bled a boy to death once at a party. There was another, a slave he used in most rituals. She rarely had time to recover before he used her again. I cannot stop your father, but I would not see you fall to such reprehensible temptations. You and Felix, you taught me that not all mages are like Danarius. That a mage can be a good man and not resort to blood magic. That you can be a kind master and still command respect from your servants and slaves. That-"

Dorian kissed him.

Fenris's eyes widened, heart pounding, stomach fluttering. He realized suddenly that he'd never been kissed before, not like this. Danarius would kiss his forehead or even his cheek. Florentina might have done the same. But never this, this close intimacy of lips pressed to lips, a tongue entreating entrance to his mouth. He panicked, unsure of what to do and pulled away, breathing heavily.

"… That never should have happened. I apologize," Dorian said, releasing him. He stood. "I… will stay the night to discuss things with Alexius. Thank you."

"Of course," Fenris whispered, still kneeling, still stunned.

"It won't happen again," Dorian continued, not looking at him. "Moment of…"

"Confusion," Fenris breathed.

"I'd have gone with weakness." Dorian's voice was flat. "You give me too much credit. I won't ever take advantage of you again. I'm sorry. I've got to…"

Fenris heard him retreat, and waited a few minutes before standing and following. His lips tingled, and he realized his lyrium markings were pulling at his skin, pulsing with a faint glow that matched the lamps'. Perhaps it was his fault. The embrace too intimate, Dorian too vulnerable. Dorian wasn't weak. He was simply overwhelmed. Tired. Exhausted. Being put through a blood magic ritual then traveling all this way simply to be told to see his father's point of view, to talk to him. Of course he would turn to the first sympathetic ear, even if it happened to be a servant.

_Slave._

The voice in his head echoed the word.

Regardless, it didn't matter. The kiss – whether it was an accident or not – didn't matter. Dorian would leave Tevinter and Fenris would carry on with his house, aiding them the best he knew how.

And at least, he thought, he would have one very pleasant, if confusing, memory of Dorian to keep with him when he said goodbye.


	27. Chapter 27

One night turned into two which turned into several more. Alexius wrote to Halward, stating that he was going to take Dorian to Erimond's gathering, that he needed him there for the moral support. No mention was made of the blood magic spell or the real reason why Dorian fled the Pavus estate. Fenris noticed that Dorian avoided being alone with him, speaking to him only when was necessary, and never quite met his eye. If either Felix or Alexius noticed, they said nothing, perhaps interpreting it as a side effect of Dorian's frustrations with his father.

Fenris missed the conversations they had, even the shallow ones where Dorian would entreat his help to criticize Felix's outfit or the way he kept his hair cut so short, his lack of style. Though it took time for Fenris to ease into the teasing, to be comfortable with making fun of either Felix or Dorian along with the other, it became something he'd gotten used to. Now that it was gone, he missed it. He stood in the corner of the room, watching as Felix and Dorian dressed for the gala, making light conversation about what they expected to find there.

"We'll be lucky to get through it without a single demon summoning," Felix said distastefully.

"Mm. I'm sure. And very flashy demons they'll be if Erimond has anything to say about it."

"Demons in feather boas."

"With sequins. Maker help us all and save us from tacky demonic forces with no style sense."

Felix laughed. "Fenris. Can you help with these?" he asked, holding up a cufflink.

Fenris crossed the room, taking the jeweled cufflinks and assisted Felix with them. Though he was no valet, he'd been trained in Danarius's service and knew how to dress a man should the need arise. He straightened Felix's collar, then turned to do the same for Dorian. Dorian ducked out of his grasp with a quick, careful smile.

"No need; I've got that."

Fenris frowned, but bowed. "As you wish," he muttered, and retreated to corner once more.

"So picky," Felix said, trying to diffuse the tension.

The door opened as someone knocked, and Felix glanced back.

"Ready?" Alexius asked. "We're to be there at eight and we're nearly fashionably late now."

"Erimond wouldn't know fashionable if it took a shit on his doorstep," Dorian quipped, slinging his cloak over his shoulder. "Felix had to primp a bit more. You can blame him if we're truly late."

Felix rolled his eyes but followed Dorian out, Alexius leading the way to the carriage. Fenris shut the door behind them, taking up his own coat and shrugged it on. His daggers were hidden inside it, his sword too conspicuous for a party like this. They piled into the carriage which trundled away down the street, to the other side of the city toward Erimond's estate.

"We'll make an appearance, have a drink or two, talk to a few others and then leave," Alexius informed them.

"It's almost as if you don't like Erimond," Dorian said, sounding scandalized. "You realize that if you leave too early you'll miss his pièce de résistance. I heard one time he actually had a slave jump out of the cake with sparklers."

"I don't believe my ailing heart could handle such excitement," Alexius deadpanned.

Dorian laughed. "Erimond would count it a victory if you dropped dead at his party. He could proclaim it for the next one. Such a rush, you might not survive."

"Speaking of excitement," Felix said, "you're unusually…"

"Happy? Ah yes. My last public appearance before I disappear into obscurity. And I'll thank you to remain quiet until I'm safely over whatever border I decide to cross."

"I wish you would reconsider," Alexius said, resuming a familiar argument that always seemed to be waiting to be picked up again. 

"Mm."

Dorian did not engage. Fenris thought perhaps it was for the best. It usually ended in a heated discussion about Dorian's future, with Felix calming them both down and assuring Dorian that his father only wanted what was best for him, while Dorian insisted that what was best for him did not include being miserable for the rest of his life. Fenris did wonder if it was only a matter of time before Alexius wrote to Halward to inform him of what was happening. And how angry, exactly, would Dorian's father be once he found out what happened? Would Halward forbid Dorian from seeing Alexius again? The thought of never seeing Dorian again was more painful than he cared to admit. Over the months he'd spent with the Alexiuses, Fenris came to view Dorian as part of the family as well.

"Is that-" Felix leaned forward, peering out of the carriage window.

"Maker's breath," Alexius sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Fenris noticed the flashing lights and looked past Alexius out the window to see Erimond's estate, two giant magical spotlights projecting into the evening sky. They could hear the music playing, loud and obnoxious, a persistent drumbeat making the windows of the carriage vibrate slightly. Multicolored streamers and confetti flew through the air down the path leading up to the house. 

Looking quite ill, Alexius sighed and stepped out, thanking the doorman before turning back toward the others. "If Erimond corners me, I'll give twenty gold to whoever pulls me away with the best excuse, no questions asked."

Felix and Dorian exchanged looks before grinning.

"Fifty, then," Alexius said, and sighed heavily. "Come, Fenris."

Fenris slid out of the carriage, Felix and Dorian behind him. He walked next to Alexius as they started up the path, Alexius waving away pieces of confetti that fell like snowflakes around them. Fenris brushed a few out of his hair, a dozen more sticking to his blood red uniform, golden accents befitting the Alexius house. He wore it with pride on every outing. He knew that everyone in attendance tonight likely heard of how Alexius granted his freedom, and wondered how many would whisper behind their hands. Fenris didn't care about it for his sake, but hardly wanted his master – no, employer – to be subjected to the scrutiny.

They were announced when they reached the grand ballroom which was lavishly decorated, the main floor looking more like a circus with jugglers, contortionists, and even a fire eater. Fenris, thankfully, had never attended a party such as this one, finding most celebrations to be quiet and dull affairs with organized dances if any, and politics and scheming in every corner. Blood sacrifices were normal, with the occasional demon summoning. He knew that before the night was out he would see at least one of these things, and found it amusing that he much preferred the jugglers.

Dorian tracked down a slave carrying a tray of champagne and immediately set to drinking, Felix and Alexius declining for now.

"You're going to wish you had at least half a dozen before the night wears on too late," Dorian said, briefly nodding to someone who called to him. His polite smile didn't quite reach his eyes and it was gone in a flash. "Remind me again why we're here?"

"Because I'd much prefer knowing what's going on than not knowing," Alexius replied. "And if that means a few hours of headaches and extreme discomfort with bright flashing lights, then so be it."

"Look," said Felix, gesturing. "He's brought in a caricature artist."

Fenris watched the artist work his canvas, painting a magister, exaggerating an already bulbous nose and overlarge ears. It felt more like a festival or a fair than a gathering of Tevinter's finest, and he wondered idly if there was to be a bear-baiting later. With any luck, the bear would eat Erimond's face.

"Don't be idle," Alexius said. "I'm going to make a few inquiries. Fenris, look after the boys."

"As if we needed a babysitter," Dorian scoffed.

"Shouldn't I stay with you?" Fenris asked, worried. If these magisters were bent on pushing Alexius away, shunning him, or preparing to do that, there was a chance they could try to kill him, make it look like an accident rather than go through the effort of having him shamed and eventually thrown out of the Magisterium.

"No," Alexius said, smiling fondly. "I can handle myself-"

"Can you now?" came a cool voice from behind.

Fenris froze, ever muscle in his body tensing even as Alexius and the others turned. Slowly he pivoted, lips parting in surprise. He fought every instinct to turn and run or to immediately kneel. He'd not seen Danarius since his old master loaned him to Alexius over a year ago. Yet his muscle memory was sharp, and if not for Dorian grabbing his arm roughly, discreetly, holding him in place, he might have bowed.

"Danarius, how good to see you again," Alexius said in a tone that indicated anything but. "We were just looking for the man of the hour. If you'll excuse us."

"Of course," Danarius said, stepping aside graciously to let them pass. He smirked. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Fenris."

Fenris's shoulders tensed as they passed, head ducking slightly, breathing rapidly increasing. Dorian's fingernails dug into his arm through the fabric and he _pulled._

"Walk," Dorian whispered, barely audible. "Just walk."

"Enjoy the party."

They were soon out of ear shot, though Fenris didn't dare turn around. He didn't want to see Danarius looking back at him. He could feel his former master's eyes on him until they reached the courtyard, where an impressive display of fireworks lit up the night sky, followed by impressed, "Oohs" and "Ahhs" from the crowd. Alexius plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to Fenris.

"Drink."

Fenris took it and drank, the bubbly liquid sliding down his throat, warming his belly, making him feel a little better. "Thank you. I should not have… I should have handled that better."

"You didn't rip his heart from his chest; I'd say that was the best we could have hoped for," Dorian said, finally releasing his hold. "Go on, Alexius. We'll look after him. Find out what you can."

"Keep safe," Felix added, touching his father's shoulder.

Alexius nodded. With one last concerned look at Fenris, he disappeared into the crowd.


	28. Chapter 28

"I quite liked the acrobats and the scantily clad pole dancers. The cherub pissing wine was a little tasteless, though," Dorian remarked, nearly an hour later.

"As tasteless as trying to drink directly from the stream," Felix countered.

Dorian laughed. "If you can't make a fool of yourself in a foolish situation, then what's the fun of it?"

Felix sighed, glancing around. "I'm going to look for my father. He should have found us by now. I'll meet you by the cheese platter."

"I hear the Antivan sharp tastes like sorrow or some such rot," Dorian mused. "Really Felix, you ought to try _some_ thing."

Felix shook his head and slipped off into the crowd. Fenris was thinking about following. After all, Felix was part of his house as was Alexius. Dorian was merely a guest, and since the last time they found themselves alone with one another, their relationship had… changed. Shifted. He wasn't sure what they were to one another anymore. Dorian might proclaim friendship, but he couldn't deny there was an uncomfortable distance between the two of them now.

"Let's see, there was the man who balanced a table on his face, the tight-rope walker over the pit of fire, the acrobats, the contortionists, the sword swallower… I think we've seen it all. He really does spare no expense, Erimond. It's a shame the man is a complete bore to be around. Highly irritating in even the smallest doses."

"I believe there's a drama being enacted in one of the lounges," Fenris stated offhandedly. "We could pass some time there."

"Ah, one of Erimond's plays that he wrote himself no doubt. Let's just hope he didn't cast himself in the lead role."

Dorian took him by the arm, Fenris feeling that same flutter of desire in his chest, coupled with uncertainty. He allowed himself to be pulled inside and upstairs, passing many inebriated party-goers. The double doors to the lounge were open only a crack, but the applause from within indicated that they were in the right place. Dorian slipped in, Fenris following, and they found seats near the back amongst the half-filled rows of chairs. At the very front of the room sat a short stage with a white cloth backdrop and four elves, speaking in a pronounced accent that Fenris guessed was Orlesian. Spirits hovered above the stage, their ethereal glow lighting up the actors, throwing the rest of the room into shadow.

"I believe that's supposed to be Empress Celene," Dorian whispered. "And maybe the Archon?"

Fenris shivered, concentrating more on Dorian's breath against his ear than the play. Perhaps this had been a bad idea, sitting in a darkened room with Dorian, waiting to hear if Alexius was all right, wondering if Felix ran into trouble or if he was handling himself. Horrible things happened at parties like this, especially when everyone was distracted. And there were a _lot_ of distractions at this party. He fidgeted slightly, blushing when Dorian's hand came to rest on his knee.

"They're fine," he said, as if reading Fenris's mind. "Look, you need another glass of something to drink. I'll be right back."

He gently squeezed Fenris's knee and slid out of his chair, retreating to find more alcohol. Fenris leaned back, arms crossed as he tried to focus on the play.

"Not enjoying yourself, my little wolf?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. How long had Danarius been there? Had he been following him? Watching him the whole time? He started to sweat despite the room feeling as if it had dropped several degrees in temperature. Fingers, familiar and strong at the back of his neck stroked his skin, slowly moving underneath the neckline of his uniform tunic.

"The colors don't suit you," Danarius purred in his ear. "You looked much better in mine."

Fenris swallowed, not sure he trusted himself to speak.

"How do your markings feel? Do they ail you? Does Alexius get one of his slaves to massage them the way I did?"

He didn't. But Fenris hadn't told Alexius how they ached, either. Once a month or so, Danarius would order two or three house slaves to oil him up and rub him down, then he would personally see to the markings himself, which was a painful act in itself. But it seemed to help after. Now, after a year of neglect, Fenris had to admit that he wouldn't have minded the treatment. But if the price was returning to Danarius, he would gladly take the aches the markings caused him over that. It wasn't even a question in his mind.

He felt the pad of Danarius's finger at the tip of his pointed ear, sliding down around the shell to stop at the lobe, and fought the desire to pull away or worse, to lean into the touch. He clenched his fists and tried to focus on the play. Empress Celene was doing cartwheels across the stage. The audience laughed. But the dialogue was a blur. Danarius's fingers sunk into his hair, pulled gently, lips pressed against the ear he'd just caressed.

"I wonder," he purred, "if your new master would let me have you for the night. Hm? How much gold do you think the evening would be worth? Or would you come with me of your own free will, my pe-urk!"

The hand disappeared at once and Fenris turned. Dorian stood, face cast in shadow, looking livid. Two glasses of wine were tucked delicately between the fingers of his left hand, right hand holding a dagger no longer than his palm, the tip of which pressed into Danarius's throat.

"Hands off," Dorian growled.

"Shh!" someone in the front row hissed back at them.

Danarius turned toward Dorian, crossing his legs nonchalantly as if he didn't have a dagger digging into his skin. While the likelihood of Dorian spilling blood here like this was rare, there was a possibility of it happening. Would Danarius call his bluff?

"My apologies," Danarius whispered smoothly. "I didn't realize his leash had yet again passed to another. I understand why you're so very protective of him. The lad is… talented, isn't he? Have you taken him yet, or just used his mouth?"

Dorian flipped his hold on the knife, dagger pointed away, and punched Danarius savagely in the jaw.

"Shh!" came the complaint again from the front row.

Danarius chuckled, touching his split lip; Fenris could just see the shine of blood as he licked it away. His cold gaze settled on Dorian and he stood, a good head taller than the younger man. Dorian flicked the knife around again, looking very ready to use it. Danarius shook his head.

"You will pay for that one, boy."

"It's a good thing Fenris is worth it," Dorian replied, just as coolly.

Danarius smirked, looking at Fenris. "Farewell, pet. Do take care of those markings."

Dorian did not take his eyes off Danarius until the lounge doors were closed again. He sat heavily next to him, flicking the knife closed and tucking it into his pocket. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"No," Fenris replied, not sure which question he was answering, or if it was both. He did however, take the glass of wine Dorian offered. "I… do not think I'm invested in this production."

"Of course," Dorian said, standing again, taking his arm and leading him out. "Come. We'll get some fresh air and wait for Felix. When we find Alexius, we'll leave. It was a stupid idea."

"You didn't know he would be here. None of you did. I am fine."

"Bullshit," Dorian said, draining his wine in two swallows. "You're pale as a ghost, and I don't mean your lyrium. Shaking like a leaf. Drink the wine."

They paused so Fenris could finish his glass, and Dorian left both in a potted plant before dragging him outside. Fenris felt much better in the cool night air, but the hand curled around his elbow certainly helped, the familiar soft scent he'd come to associate with Dorian rather comforting. They waited patiently at the cheese table, both relieved when they saw Alexius and Felix approach quarter of an hour later.

"Well?" Dorian asked.

"It's…" Alexius started, then frowned, shaking his head. "We'll talk when we get home."

"That bad?" Dorian asked, eyebrows raised.

"Worse," Alexius confirmed. "I suggest we take our leave now. Fenris, are you all right?"

Dorian opened his mouth to say something, but Fenris cut him off. "Yes, I'm fine. Too much excitement for the evening, I'm afraid."

A ball of flame exploded some twenty feet to the left as if to reiterate his point.

Alexius nodded. "Best we go before they start bleeding slaves. I haven't the stomach for it. Tonight or any other night."

They followed him out of the party, nodding their goodbyes and smiling their fake smiles. Dorian looked at Fenris, gesturing with his head, a silent question. Fenris frowned and looked down, shaking his own. He didn't want Alexius to know what happened. He had too much to worry about already. Besides, he thought as they piled into the carriage, it wasn't as if he was going to see Danarius ever again.


	29. Chapter 29

"Supremacists."

They returned home, changed, and convened in Alexius's study. Fenris poured drinks, feeling grateful when Alexius told him to take one for himself as well. He stood, sipping the wine carefully while Alexius paced in front of the fire. Felix and Dorian occupied the sofa, watching Alexius closely. He finally stopped, one hand tucked behind his back, balled into a fist, the other clutching his wine glass.

"They're calling themselves the Venatori. A cult of magisters devoting themselves to bringing the Imperium back to its former glory days."

Fenris didn't quite grasp the weight of the statement, though he could see the gravity of the situation from the expressions on their faces. The Imperium at its height stretched all across Thedas. He remembered the maps in Danarius's house, the tapestries detailing the expansion, the major cities and highways. Expansion meant war, which was both dangerous and beneficial. Perhaps they were taking advantage of the Kirkwall rebellion, the unrest that would no doubt happen across all the Circles once they heard, if they hadn't already.

"Are they equipped?" Dorian asked, sitting forward, resting his glass on his knee, holding it delicately by the stem. "How many?"

Alexius shook his head with a slight, frustrated shrug. "Erimond and Servis, perhaps a dozen others who were there, discussing it."

"You listened in on their meeting?" Felix asked, eyebrows rising in surprise. "I thought they didn't trust you."

"Apparently they were testing the waters. Had I declined Erimond's invitation, it is very likely they would have worked to keep me apart from it."

Dorian scoffed. "I hope that's not a prerequisite to joining their exclusive little club. Putting up with Erimond. Survive him and you're in." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Then again, good way to cull those who aren't serious."

"Dorian," Felix scowled.

"Do lighten up, Felix. What can these Venatori do, anyway? They would need an army to conquer Thedas. I know our border disputes with Nevarra are tentative, but a bunch of death-obsessed necromancers could raise enough corpses in more than enough time to stop even a hundred of these Venatori from marching south." He leaned back, arm flung over the couch, legs crossing as he finally took a sip of wine.

"They've pledge themselves into the service of someone called 'The Elder One'," Alexius said, not sharing in Dorian's confidence. "The way they speak of him, he sounds like the second coming of Andraste."

Dorian scoffed. "Andraste hated mages. Nothing to worry about there, then."

"If you can't take this seriously," Felix started.

"Then what? I'm no longer invited to the conversation? Getting used to it," Dorian muttered around his glass. "Think I'll also get used to pariah-hood. It seems to suit me."

"I've been invited to join," Alexius stated.

Fenris watched as Dorian laughed, Felix's startled exclamation turn to irritation at his friend, and Alexius sighed.

"If I can find out what they're doing, perhaps I can convince them to cease their foolishness. If I met this 'Elder One', find out who he is, I could appeal to Radonis to put a stop to it before they do something irreversibly damaging to the Imperium."

It was interesting, Fenris thought, how Alexius spoke of Tevinter. Fenris himself never held any love for the country, not even Seheron where he supposedly grew up and spent most of his life with Danarius. Minrathous would always be a fascinating city, but until he came to Alexius, he never felt like he had a home. If the Imperium expanded or shrank, it was no matter to him, so long as Alexius and Felix remained safe. _And Dorian,_ a quiet voice in the back of his mind added.

"Why not go to him now?" Dorian asked. "It seems you could save yourself a whole lot of trouble and inconvenience."

"There is no proof. Yet. Ideas right now, but ideas can be dangerous. They can shape a nation or bring it to its knees." Alexius's eyes narrowed as Dorian rolled his. "Look to the south."

"I'd rather not. Terrible dress sense."

"Can't you be serious for once?" Felix snapped.

Dorian's expression hardened. He leaned forward, placing his glass on the coffee table, legs uncrossing. "Fine. You want my opinion. Every few years, talks of reform happen. The shout of patriotism in the streets. Unrest in the Magisterium. Then the assassinations. Sometimes several, sometimes of good men. People quiet down or they grow disinterested. Then things go right back to normal. This is just another call for Tevinter citizens to rise up and become like we used to be. It will garner interest and the papers will have their juicy headlines. Three months from now, the Venatori will be just another distant memory like the other groups that have tried. So pardon me if I'm not shaking in my extremely fashionable boots just yet."

"But you don't find the timing convenient?" Felix asked. "Right when the Kirkwall Circle rises-"

"Was it the Circle?" Dorian asked, leaning against the arm of the sofa, cheek against his fist. "I thought it was one mage who decided he preferred the inside of the chantry on the outside. Not that I can say I blame him. The Orlesian Chantry's a complete mess. I'd probably have done the same in his place."

"Speculation," Alexius said. "There was a Right of Annulment called. Whether before or after it happened, we don't know. But there were definite abuses of power. Radonis said he heard rumors that the Orlesian Divine was investigating, possibly sniffing out an excuse to send an Exalted March. I have letters from the First Enchanter of the Montsimmard Circle that talks about a vote for southern mages to secede from the Chantry. It didn't pass, but only by a very slim margin."

Now Dorian looked interested, sitting up once more.

Felix frowned. "You didn't tell me."

"I didn't think it was anything of note until recently," Alexius said, somewhat defensively. "I'd written asking about our time magic theory and we've been passing letters for a while now. Presumably they'll have another vote. Possibly soon. Fiona writes that at the next gathering they'll likely be looking for a new Grand Enchanter and she's hopeful for the position."

Dorian and Felix exchanged a knowing look, the former smirking as he took up his wine once more.

Alexius's mouth tightened into a frown. "Boys."

"Nothing, Father," Felix said, taking a sip of wine to hide his grin.

Fenris didn't understand. "What is so amusing?" he ventured.

"What else does _Fiona_ have to say?" Dorian pressed.

Alexius's lips thinned, threatening almost to disappear with disapproval. "Simply because I happen to be in regular correspondence with someone does not indicate that anything untoward is happening."

"Untoward," Felix snorted. "I think it's a good idea. She's a mage; she's capable if she's been elevated to First Enchanter. Ambitious and obviously talented. She has the right idea for her people in the south. Father, she sounds perfect. You ought to profess an interest. Or I might," he teased.

Alexius shook his head and handed his glass of wine to Fenris. "I'm going to bed. And later," he said to Felix, "you will help with my research into these Venatori."

"Yes, Father," Felix said dutifully.

They waited until Alexius said goodnight and left the room before bursting into laughter.

"Oh, do you think he writes her love poetry?" Dorian asked through his mirth.

"My father the romantic," Felix said, shaking his head. He sobered a little, though the laughter did not leave his eyes. "It's a good thing, yeah? He's moving on."

Dorian touched his hand, then took his wrist, squeezing. "No one could ever replace your mother, Felix. She was a unique and sparkling jewel amongst all the unpolished stones. But yes. It is good."

"I know he'll never stop loving Mother. I'm glad of that. But he deserves happiness."

"So do you, my friend."

Felix looked at him, expression softening. "So do you, Dorian."

Dorian released him, looking down. "Ah. Well. I'll be happy. Wherever I end up."

Felix looked up at Fenris, who watched the entire exchange, then back to Dorian before he stood. He squeezed Dorian on the shoulder in passing. "I'm going to bed as well. Things will be better in the morning, I think. Fenris. Good night."

"Good night," Fenris murmured, taking his glass from him.

Dorian sighed, eyes on the fire. "Happiness, hmph."

"Anything is possible," Fenris said, because he felt like Dorian was looking for an answer. "Would you like more wine?"

Dorian held up a hand. "No. No I'm fine. I should sleep as well." He stood and stretched, and Fenris tried not to notice how the hem of his shirt rode up to reveal a small glimpse of skin. 

"Thank you," Fenris said suddenly. "For your help earlier with Danarius. If you hadn't…"

Dorian smiled at him. "Don't mention it, yes? If Alexius is trying to stay in good with the magisters at that party, he'll need as much plausible deniability as possible." He handed his glass to Fenris, not seeming to notice as their fingers brushed. "Good night, Fenris. Sleep well."

The door clicked shut behind him as he left, Fenris looking down at the wine glass in hand. "Good night," he whispered to the empty room.


	30. Chapter 30

Fenris looked at the canvas bag, frowning at the contents. Not that he truly cared what was inside, though it did contain almost all his worldly possessions. His sword and daggers lay on the bed next to him, and he contemplated his decision. And it _was_ his decision, even if Alexius urged him into it. And Felix. Dorian received a letter from his father, demanding that he return home, that Halward would happily drag him home if he wasn't inclined on doing so himself. He also had some choice words for Alexius, for keeping his son away when he had "duties" to attend to elsewhere. Alexius tried, yet again, to convince Dorian to return home just to talk to his father one last time. It ended in a spectacular shouting match, Dorian slamming the door to his room like a child.

_"Fenris." Alexius was frowning, sadness heavy in every movement. "I think you should go with Dorian when he leaves. He's impulsive and will get himself into trouble. He needs someone to keep him safe, and I'm no longer that person. I need Felix here with me, looking into the Venatori. Will you?"_

Fenris protested at first. They talked for several hours, Alexius nearly begging him to go, truly worried that if Dorian left, they'd never hear from him again. Fenris thought about what it was like to have someone care that much. Alexius wasn't casting him off, wasn't throwing him away. He trusted him to keep Dorian safe, to make sure he wrote.

_"I'll speak with Halward once he's gone. You won't be subjected to his ire. Please."_

Even if Alexius hadn't pleaded, Fenris knew he would have agreed. He wanted to keep Alexius and Felix safe, but they were both capable mages who would remain in the city. Alexius was still in danger, subjecting himself to the Venatori, but what if Dorian was right and the group would simply disappear like so many others had in the past? Fenris was just worrying for nothing then, wasn't he? Besides that, it was an opportunity to see Thedas as a free elf. He would be acting in the capacity of a bodyguard for Dorian on Alexius's orders as his servant, but by and large, that would be the only order he would be following. The rest of the decisions would be his.

He closed the bag, knotting the ties. His belt was next, the twin daggers in their sheaths, sharpened last night, and his sword, which he slung over his shoulder, across his back. Gripping his bag, he took one last look around his room. He would see it again, he was sure of it. It was just a matter of when. Alexius assured him he would always have a place in his house and Fenris knew that he would miss it the second he was gone. He closed the door and took the stairs down toward the lounge, hoping that Alexius spoke to Dorian already about this plan and he would be spared the awkward discussion.

Would Dorian even agree to it?

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard shouting, and raced quickly toward the source.

"What are you even DOING here?!"

Fenris dodged one of the house slaves as they barreled out of the room, presumably to get away from the screaming match. He palmed the door to the lounge, quickly taking in the scene. Halward Pavus stood in the center of the room, dressed in traveling clothes, looking winded and red-faced. On the other side was Dorian, fists clenched, a bag and staff at his feet. Alexius and Felix stood behind him, the latter with his hand on Dorian's shoulder, the former moving in between father and son.

"Halward, listen," Alexius entreated.

"You stay out of this!" Halward snarled. "I'm sure this is your fault somehow. You-"

"Don't blame my father for this!" Felix snapped.

"Shut up all of you!" Dorian growled, stepping forward, shrugging off Felix's hand. "Answer me, Father. What are you doing here?"

"Evidently I am here to stop you from doing something stupid."

"Trying to live my own life? Yes, how incredibly elementary of me. Wanting to be happy? How _dare_ I!"

"Your glibness will not solve anything here, Dorian."

"And what will, Father? Coming home? Subjecting myself to another of your rituals to make me 'normal'?"

That at least seemed to give Halward pause.

Dorian bent over and grabbed his bag and staff, slinging both over a shoulder. "I'm leaving, Father. There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind. I'll go be a disappointment far away from Tevinter. You can tell whatever story you want about where I've gone." He stalked past Halward, finally seeing Fenris for the first time, eyes flicking to Fenris's bag, the sword on his back, and he nodded.

Fenris stepped aside, holding the door open for him. Dorian was almost through when his father called his name. Dorian stopped, shoulders squared.

"Dorian, if you walk away from me now, you are _never_ coming back, do you understand? If you leave, you are no longer my son."

"Halward," Alexius started, concern and surprise thick in his tone.

When Dorian spoke, it was barely a whisper. "Then I take my leave of you, Magister Halward Pavus."

He hurried away, Fenris glancing back Alexius, who nodded. Fenris followed Dorian quickly, jogging to keep up, and fell in step with him. Dorian was silent, jaw set, eyes fixed ahead as they wound the halls and out the large double doors leading to the front yard. Fenris adjusted his pack on his shoulders, wondering if he should say something.

"Alexius told me he'd support my decision only if I agreed to your coming," Dorian said finally, his voice flat. "Your company is welcome."

If Fenris hadn't known Dorian as well as he did, he wouldn't have believed it based on his tone. Dorian was understandably upset and trying not to show it.

"Dorian!"

They stopped just outside the gates. Felix was running to meet them, Alexius visible in the distance behind him. Dorian's father, however, was nowhere to be seen. Felix didn't stop, nearly barreling into Dorian as he hugged him tightly. Dorian hesitated but returned the embrace with his free hand, exhaling with a shaky breath.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," Felix said, voice slightly muffled against Dorian's shoulder.

Dorian let his bag and staff drop in order to hug Felix properly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're not a disappointment to me, Dorian. You're my brother. You'll always be, understand?"

Dorian closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes. I do. Thank you."

Alexius caught up with them, hand on Dorian's shoulder. Felix released him so that Alexius could hug him next, kissing his cheek. He held him at arm's length after, looking at him fondly.

"Your father will…" He shook his head. "Dorian, stay safe, my boy."

Dorian let out a shaky laugh, reaching up to wipe at his tear-filled eyes. "I will. You've sent Fenris along to be my wet nurse, after all."

"He's saved my life more than once," Felix said. "Maybe he can save you from yourself."

Dorian scoffed. "As if anyone could do that. But at least my self-destruction will be glorious. I promise you both that I'll write."

Alexius squeezed his shoulder, then turned to Fenris, offering his hand. "Thank you for everything, Fenris. And I meant what I said: you're always welcome here. You both are."

Fenris stood a little taller as he shook Alexius's hand. Though this man was his master, he felt that they would be leaving on more equal footing. The idea was simultaneously emboldening and terrifying. Felix shook his hand next.

"Keep him from doing anything stupid. I know it's a difficult task."

Fenris smiled while Dorian mocked laughter, stooping to pick up his things. They shared one last hug, saying their goodbyes, and Dorian led the way through the gates onto the street. The glowlamps lit the cobblestones beneath their feet as they walked toward the city proper.

"We'll find horses. Or maybe a carriage. Then head south," Dorian informed him. "I… don't really have a plan beyond that. Is there anywhere you'd like to see?"

"I haven't given it any thought," Fenris said truthfully.

"Perhaps the Free Marches to start. I admit that Kirkwall's got me a little curious. The rubble should've settled enough for us to sift through looking for clues, yes? And it might help Alexius with his ridiculous research into the Venatori."

"Perhaps," Fenris agreed.

Dorian nudged him with an elbow. "Cheer up. We're both free men now, aren't we?"

Fenris felt himself smile at Dorian's forced cheeriness. They were both scared, not knowing what the future held, but at least he thought, they weren't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends Part One. Thank you guys SO much for the overwhelming awesome feedback and support and cheerleading. AO3 is truly the best community in the known internet, I swear. :)
> 
> I will start to put Part Two up this Sunday (2/15) and it should be finished in 2-3 weeks depending on editing, real life, etc etc. Hopefully I won't keep you guys waiting too long!
> 
> Edited to add:
> 
> Some gorgeous photo manip/artwork by lifeforce:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
